#simply go around the outside ez

[aesthetic-gem]

when your husband’s been sleeping since your wedding and the only way to reunite is through a qsmp newspaper puzzle maze

[cloveroctobers]

black mascara — EZ REYES

A|N: in honor of the season 5 trailer, I had to write a little something. This one will actually be small since I don’t have too much to go off of in writing this but I can’t lie and say I’m not a little fired up! So get comfy.

GIF BELONGS to: @dailymayans

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“See that crave for power…that’s seeping through your pores is exactly what’s gonna get you killed, Ezekiel.”

“…if that happens to be the case, I hope they know their prayers well because I’ll still be here from beyond the grave.”

She did not know this person that she sat face to face with. She didn’t even know what that statement means. Majority of the time Hadiza kept out of The Mayans business, despite the fact that her older brother Franky interacted with them from time to time. She knew Ezekiel way before he decided to join the club and although she’s seen the Mayans around town, she didn’t have much of a opinion when the man first brought the idea to the table a week before his release.

Now she wished she would have.

Back then she trusted that Ez knew what he was doing.

This Ezekiel was not the man she used to know.

Hadiza had a feeling this would happen, that as soon as Ezekiel got into the president’s chair, a whole new level of danger would be unleashed. She saw the shift in Ezekiel throughout his time in the charter happen gradually, that her worries started to keep her up at night. The lack of sleep even proposed her to talk to Felipe about it, who simply listened and still had faith in his baby boy until Gabby came around.

Which was kinda foul the longer she thought about it. Was her word really not good enough when she’s been around? She’ll have to take that up with Felipe at a later time, respectfully.

She’s known Ezekiel since high school…it’s been years since they stepped into their adulthood. However a good portion of Ezekiel’s youth was ripped away from him the night his mother died.

Yes people change…but not like this.

Hadiza was beginning to think that a piece of Ezekiel died with his mother that day but what could she say about him now? So much has happened since then and He wasn’t the same—sure it was foolish to think that he would be completely healed from that tragedy but the light in his pretty honey eyes, did not reflect what was beyond them or what was on the outside.

“So that’s it then,” she raised her shoulders, “you’re gonna waste your life away for reckless shit? You’re better than this Ezekiel.”

“What do you exactly expect me to do? This is the duty that I’ve strived for. And you’re looking at me as if we didn’t know it would always end up being this way. I know you didn’t think this shit was rainbows and daisies, you’re much smarter than gabby in that sense.” Ezekiel bit, yanking a cigarette from his pocket.

Hadiza shook her head, “speaking ill of the dead…somebody that you killed and claimed to love like she was just nothing to you. I’m not feeling this. Or you.”

“There’s the door, fucking use it,” Ezekiel flared his nostrils as he pointed at the exit, “you’re the one who came here trying to preach to me what I’ve already heard. And what I’ve told myself before back when I was weak. What? you thought shit was gonna change because it’s coming from you? I’ve got to be smarter than that, especially when it comes to the club and nothing you can say to me right now…matters.”

“Then what does, motherfucker?!” She was on her feet now, “greed? Selfishness? No wait. I got it, your ego.”

The man lifted his shoulders, not needing to say anything more or seemed to be the least bit phased by the irritation that was showing in his long-time friend’s frame.

“Going after the sons—

“I don’t want to hear it.” Ez glared, “I’ve seen enough wars to not fear a damn thing. Don’t you ever question: Where does fear get you, diza? Look in the mirror. Everybody pays a price with the cards they’ve been dealt.”

The woman chewed down on her bottom lip in annoyance, “and just how much are you willing to lose?”

“That’s something I’ve got to reflect on in my own time…but you’re here.” Ezekiel kept his eyes trained on the woman, puffing on his cigarette.

Before Hadiza could lose the courage she said, “Fuck your subliminal and fuck you.”

“We’ve already done that, remember? With Sofia watching in the background. I think the message then was very clear and something you should thank me for.”

That was so low and disrespectful, considering that Hadiza had a moment and went to someone who she thought cared about her well-being. At that time she just received the news that her fiancé wanted to break off the engagement after cheating on her with a co-worker and the first person she went to was Ezekiel. He was the first person she thought about and felt complete with—a mistake on her end, sure but she wasn’t expecting him to have company other than Sally.

The smirk that was on his lips was smacked right off by her hand. However that did not stop Ez from yanking on her wrist and getting into her face.

Anyone was fair game at this point.

This she knew deep down.

He could end it all, right here in this trailer.

What made her any different?

Did he even love her anymore? Or was she just another ploy in the way Ezekiel floated around life now? Hadiza was not part of the club so why was she becoming collateral damage?

“You don’t get to come here and think our friendship and reminiscing about the old times, or guilt trip me about Gabby, would stop me or save me from myself. That’s not your job, never was amor. Sorry I couldn’t live in your fantasy of being a good ol’ friend to you anymore. But that’s life, so either continue standing by and keep your mouth shut or take a walk and don’t look back.” Ezekiel gritted into her face and that hurt more than him squeezing her wrist.

The black ink dripped down her brown cheeks as she hissed, “you’re done to me.”

And this she hoped she meant. She couldn’t stick around and she knew Ezekiel was pushing her to do so but ultimately it was her choice. Her eyes stung from the makeup as she clenched them closed, fighting away the memories of their teenage years: watching Ezekiel love Emily, having intense debates over literature in class and outside of, him being there for her first heartbreak and attempting to get angel to drive him to the asshole who broke her heart house to egg it and piss on their front doorstep, to Marisol Reyes encouraging her to keep loving her son the best way that she knew how…

“Good,” Ezekiel breathed into her face, shoving her fist back down her by her sides.

He broke eye contact after awhile since she no longer had any words for him. He placed the cigarette back to his lips as he slouched back on the couch. Hadiza swiped the mascara from the bags underneath her eyes, deeply inhaling and battled with herself on what to do or say.

The words fell empty just like the relationship she once had with the man she called her best friend.

She sniffed as she snatched up her bag, making sure she had her keys before she took her exit. The door to the trailer opened on her way, revealing Sofia who easily picked up on the tension in the home. Her dark eyes shifted between the pair but Hadiza patiently waited for the wavy haired woman to get out of her way.

Ez pressed his elbows into his knees as he grunted, “What is it, Sofia?”

If Hadiza continued to be foolish she would have tried to believe that the tone of his voice was telling her something, besides him being an asshole. That perhaps he didn’t truly want their friendship to end but that’s the difference between the two, she didn’t have to be selfish.

“Um, you’ve some company. Bishop and Tranq are outside.” Sofia informed as she stepped into the trailer with Sally.

Ez quickly got to his feet, putting his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and brushed his shoulder by Hadiza as he left the trailer. Sofia easily picked up on the woman taking a sharp breath at his actions but didn’t speak on it.

It didn’t take the most intelligent person to understand that something transpired between the two. Their relationship didn’t threaten what she had with EZ and in a way, Sofia actually thought it was beautiful. How their relationship didn’t appear to be transactional or circumstantial. How simply being next to each other was enough for them. Or it used to be. Yet Sofia wasn’t naïve to think that it would last with the new propositions EZ took on.

Sometimes that’s just the way life worked out and the sooner Hadiza figured that out…maybe she could protect her heart a bit better.

It was a little awkward as Hadiza had to collect herself, hand on the trailer’s door before she went outside. Sofia wasn’t one for words and she wasn’t sure anything she could say would provide comfort for Hadiza either. After what happened right here in this trailer, weeks ago, it’s not like the two had the chance to really talk about it.

They didn’t have to but it seemed like Hadiza always had a lot on her mind.

Thankfully for Sofia, Hadiza pushed the door open, not sparing her a glance, either placing herself on autopilot or trying her best to ignore her presence—it didn’t bother Sofia one way or another as Hadiza left the home.

“See you around then,” Sofia muttered, taking a seat on the couch, after the door clicked shut behind Hadiza.

Her long legs kicked up the dirt as she passed by the group of men on the side. She couldn’t get away from the place fast enough, feeling her heart being squeezed with each step she took.

“Hey,” Tranq started to call out to the woman but it was almost as if she heard nothing while she shoved herself into her car.

Bishop’s eyes were back on EZ as his eyes briefly burned into Hadiza’s retreating form. He just knew the Reyes brother fucked that up and it’s a shame because he was fond of the girl, despite her having a connection to a pig. Of course he never fully trusted her (by no fault of her own) but she was kind enough whenever she rarely showed up to club.

He kept it silent but he knew his body language did enough talking for him as EZ focused back on him.

“Tonight is the night, round everybody up.” Ez ordered, stalking off and daring a glance at Hadiza’s car and over his shoulder as he stood on the steps of his trailer, while she backed off the lot and sped away, eyes solely on what was in front of her and not what was left behind in the rear view.

Ez swallows down the small lump that wants to form in his throat but that wasn’t important right now. He had other things to tend to and Hadiza was no longer one of them.

Instead of running back, she ran to her mother’s arms who was less than thrilled to see her baby this upset over a man who she trusted to be good to her child.

Later Hadiza found herself in her mother’s hands again when she received the devastating but expected news from Angel Reyes on her door step. She broke down in the doorway right in front of him and she knew the eldest brother couldn’t handle that amount of heartache that he also shared, despite him placing a kiss to the top of her head and leaving her with one of EZ’s dog tags, he left her with the woman who gave her life to deal with the weight of the lost on his own.

Hadiza then sent a letter to Felipe a couple of days before she decided to take her life elsewhere, away from all that Santo Padre showed her. She wasn’t sure if there would even be a funeral or memorial but she had to get out while she can still stand.

Antigua was always a place Hadiza wanted to visit and now she can say that she lives here comfortably.

She left her mother on the front deck to get them a refill of her famous rum punch that was leftover from her mother’s house party yesterday night. Hadiza was humming to herself in solitude until she heard her mother screaming out to her from outside.

The woman did not hesitate to race around the house with a bat, ready to fight off any Osprey’s that decided to invade their property again. Hadiza held her breath as she yanked open the door, eyes wild as she searched for her mother on the deck.

“What is it, ma?” Hadiza exhaled, seeing her mother sitting up on one of the wicker chairs.

Her mother nudged her chin towards the front and Hadiza cautiously took a step towards the railing. A few of her fingertips rested on the banister as she leaned over a bit, looking over at the new found community they both settled into. It was quiet as usual, air warm, seaweed scented, and fresh.

She wasn’t sure what had spooked her mother until her eyes settled down by the cars parked along the curb. Her eyes moved to the left a bit and she had to rub at one of them to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. It tended to do that the first couple of weeks she settled in the country. Lately she’s been okay. A figure stood by a identical golf cart (that they had in their driveway) that was parked right behind Hadiza’s car, fitted cap on their head as their hands held onto a mobile device.

Her throat went dry before she could even muster up and ask if she could help the person locate who they were searching for…because she knew it was him before those honey eyes looked up at her.

“Ezekiel.” She shuddered, feeling her mother get to her feet behind her, like the DJ Khalid meme, almost like she wasn’t still healing from the last Osprey attack two weeks ago.

Her mother also gripped onto the banister, “Oh hell no. I rebuke this demonic spirit, get away from here!”

And tossed the freshly watered plant at Ezekiel who side-stepped the assault.

“Hey, Mrs—it’s just me!”

“I know! Aren’t you supposed to be dead, you bastard?!” She yelled back.

Hadiza whispered at the woman, “Ma, please.”

The woman humphed, folding her arms as she waddled back to the chair, already aware how this would go.

Hadiza pointed the bat at Ezekiel, “wait right there.”

“Not if you’re gonna beat my ass.”

“I’ll think about it by time I get downstairs.”

Hadiza’s mother cackled at that, knowing she raised her baby with some sort of sense.

Hadiza couldn’t tell you how she felt but the brain fog was kicking in. She weeped over this man too many times just for him to be here in the flesh, like they all didn’t experience the hell he indulged in back in Santo Padre.

Her mother was right to think a demon was standing in front of their home. The anger Hadiza directed at EZ after receiving the news of his death was like no other emotion Hadiza’s had before but she found peace in Antigua.

She halted at the front door, noticing EZ fumbling with his fingers after the phone disappeared from his hold. Hadiza took her time going down the few front steps, crossing through the grass and down the slope to the gravel.

The man looked up at her approach, carefully reaching up to lift the cap from his head to mess around with the brim of the hat as Hadiza moved closer but almost not close enough.

His eyes immediately went to her head, noticing that the mountain of coarse hair that she had was long gone into a buzzed style now.

He smiled, “you finally did it huh? I know you’ve been eating ‘em up more than ever out here.”

And she couldn’t stand it, her eyes scanning the old yellowing of bruises and cuts on his face, puffing out a laugh at his compliment as she almost collapsed into his arms, bringing his body so tight to hers that he thought he would break her rib cage but he followed through with the same actions.

Her chin buried into his shoulder, one of his hands around the small of her back, and the other cradling the back of her head, he heard her sob against him and he couldn’t be more apologetic.

When they pulled apart, she held onto his face analyzing the marks on his skin before she inflicted her own attack on his lower half.

“Hey! Ow!” A good whack to the top of his head, made Ezekiel stop taking the hits as he gripped her wrists again.

Except this time was different, his touch was much more softer.

“I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry for filling your head up with doubts and making you believe that I didn’t give a shit about our friendship. When quite frankly—no pun intended, you’re the best got damn thing that’s been in my life.” His hands slipped into holding her hands into his own large ones.

And the way he was staring at Hadiza, let her know that this was the old Ezekiel she had missed. It was the spark in his eyes that made her feel safe, given what he got himself involved in.

He could see her mind spinning with questions, the corners of her eyes damp with tears.

“What did I say to you when we first became friends?”

“…’jalapeños on these nachos are missing and I make better ones than these whack ass ones you’re eating.’” Hadiza actually thought about this.

Which made a goofy grin appear on Ez’s face and he shook his head with a sigh, “yeah I think I did say that but after that? I said you’re stuck with me if you choose me. It would always be Kiel and Diza for life, remember?”

It was ironic that he wanted to think back when he basically was rude as hell to her about this in his trailer months ago. The bitterness was still in the pit of her stomach but the higher road wanted her to be happy that this man, her best friend, Ezekiel Lorenzo Reyes was very much still alive.

Hadiza wasn’t sure how the fuck he did it but here he was, wiping away her black mascara before holding her hands in his again.

A small smile appeared on her lips as she peered down at their hands, lifting their conjoined hands up to place her lips right on the back of his hands. Ezekiel let out a breath he wasn’t aware that he was holding.

“For life.” She repeated, staring at him underneath her eyelashes.

He nodded his head, not breaking eye contact as she pulled the necklace from around her and placed it back on Ezekiel where it belonged. He glanced down at it, a new wave of emotions hitting him as he realized a piece of him was always with the one woman he deeply cared for.

“Let’s get inside.” Hadiza told him, as he leaned over to place a kiss to her full cheek.

She turned, her hand still resting in one of his hands as he reached for the fallen bat with the other, “think I might need this if I try to give your mom a hug.”

Hadiza laughed, “Baby steps, Kiel.”

“That’s fair.” He answers from behind her, letting her lead the way to her new home.

Perhaps now here in the Caribbean, they had the chance to create a better life, a better friendship together with no more black ink or blood spills blinding the way.

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Continue along with my anthology works that were written during the spring season here.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Lost & Found - Chapter Two.

Surprise! I’m going to aim for one chapter a week going forward, since I’m definitely feeling more confident with it, and that’s all down to you guys. Thank you so, so much for your lovely feedback. I am so pleased (and relieved!) that you enjoyed the first chapter :)

Previous chapters - One

Words - 3,502 

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters.

“We got a situation in here.”

They were words that, needless to state, EZ was not too fond of hearing. “What is it?”

Guero’s mouth tightened with discomfort, not particularly relishing in having to deliver the news to his president. “The crate containing our cash is empty, and there’s a knocked out girl in here. At least, I think she’s knocked out.” Going inside, he pulled the small flashlight from his kutte pocket and switched it on, crouching at her side and placing his fingers upon her neck. “Yeah, she ain’t dead.”

EZ arrived at his side speedily, crouching with a frown. “She fucking will be if she doesn't wake up and tell me where our damned money is.” He began slapping the side of her face in an effort to rouse her, Guero taking in her appearance.  

She looked thin and sickly, her long, blonde hair matted, she stank and was unkempt. Whoever she was, she hadn’t just arrived at that container. It took twenty-three days for the ship it had ported on to sail from New York to San Diego. Her appearance gave credence to the idea that she’d been inside of it when their money was stolen, not outside.

“Is it just her?” Bishop spoke, entering the container. The other guys halted their task, coming over to view the scene, wondering if they’d stumbled upon a refugee situation. “Man, the fucking state of her. Stowaway, she’s been in here since it left New York, see?” He pointed, Guero moving his flashlight to view the evidence of such, the many empty wrappers scattered around from chocolate flavoured protein bars. “She don’t have anything to do with whoever took the cash, mano.”  

EZ seemed reluctant to process such evidence or rational thought. Either that, or he simply didn’t care. Turning his glare back to the girl, he kept slapping her cheek. “Hey, wake up.”  

A few seconds passed before she stirred with a soft moan, her eyelashes fluttering. As soon as her eyes opened, they rounded in fear, her body going rigid as she sat up and attempted to put space between herself and the three men looming over her. A fist grasping onto her sweater prevented such a move.

“Who the fuck took our cash?”  

She began to quiver, her body trembling violently, shaking her head. EZ’s hand found his gun, pulling it rapidly and pointing it between her eyes. A man and a gun. Not again. “I said who the fuck took our cash?”

She found her voice then, but not in the way EZ had hoped, a bone-chilling scream leaving her mouth, sounding like a siren, her fear filling the space with ear splitting volume.  

“Shut the fuck up and tell me what I wanna know.”

“Hey yo, EZ!” Angel called from behind him, “we don’t need no extra noise comin’ from down here! Put the gun down, bro. You just terrifying the bitch!”

“EZ, let her go or she ain’t gonna shut up,” Bishop hissed with urgency, knowing he needed to rein himself in, if anything to shut up the noise coming from the petrified girl. How different things were, he mulled, between EZ the prospect and EZ the president.  

Back when he’d joined the club, it was EZ’s gentler nature that had often yielded results if somebody was too afraid to talk. In the interim, darkness had steadily bled into him, his fuse burned much shorter, his patience perpetually worn thin. Laying a hand upon his arm, Bishop pushed against the muscles, making him lower his weapon. As soon as EZ released the grasp upon her sweater, the girl scuttled backwards at speed, wedging herself between two packing crates.  

He made a move to go after her, Guero pushing a hand against his chest. “I think you just spooked her out too much, prez. I’ll go.” He saw the validity in that, realising he’d likely been too menacing right off the bat, Guero moving slowly until he was level with the gap she’d wedged herself into. As soon as she saw him, her screams filled the air once more.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, I’m not gonna hurt you, baby,” he spoke softly, pulling his gun and knife out. “See, gun gone. Knife gone.” He slid both weapons back across the container, showing his hands to be empty, pulling his hood back. “It’s just you and me, it’s alright. Nobody wants to hurt you.” Her violent trembles made something in his chest pull tight, waving his hand at his president and VP in a manner that indicated they should back off. “You can come out, it’s okay. All we wanna know is who took the money that was in this crate, alright?”  

Her screaming has ceased, but she continued to tremble, eyes like saucers, Guero continuing. “Come on, you can trust me. Just don’t be screaming again. I’m not in the habit of making chicks scream, at least not in this kinda situation.” He grinned, his little attempt at humour and the softness of his words seeming to reach her, the girl feeling herself calm down a smidgen. “Come on, it’s alright. Just tell us what you know, okay, and then you’re free to head to wherever it is you’re going.”

Bishop cleared his throat. “Guero, we gotta get moving here. She okay?”

Looking back at the girl, who’s violent trembles still persisted, he shook his head. “Nah. She’s terrified, man.”  

“Hey, y’all should just let me in there. I got a better way with women than his bitch ass does,” Downer piped up, beginning to become agitated at the lack of movement.  

Guero snorted. “Now ain’t the time for your delusions, bro. Take a seat, fucking mouthy assed gnome.” Turning back to the girl, he smiled widely. “S’cuse him. He’s about as sensitive as a fucking wrecking ball. Just as round and ugly as one, too.” Something about him, the lightness of his comic persona, the softness of his words, they began to make her feel a little more at ease. He witnessed her breathing beginning to steady, but her reluctance to emerge remained resolute. On he continued.

“I meant it when I said you can trust me, trust us. I apologise for EZ, he was the big, angry dude with the gun. He just wants to know what the fuck happened to our money is all. We don’t hurt women, goes against our code.” Men and their codes. She knew better than anyone that they would pick and choose when to enforce or break them.  

Guero attempted to edge a little closer to her, stopping immediately when she pressed herself further back into the shadows. “Hey, keep calm, it’s okay. I know, outlaws and ethics don’t exactly go hand in hand, but that’s a line we don’t cross, hurting women. He just lost his temper. That was a lot of cash to lose. I know that isn't your problem, you’ve got nothing to do with it, I see that. He won’t hurt you, and neither will anyone else, alright? You wanna tell me your name? I’m Guero, and I’m gonna go wait out there until you feel ready to come out, alright?”

She nodded, Guero moving slowly back out of the container again, meeting a bunch of tense looking faces. “Whoever she is, she’s fucking terrified. That’s some next level fear.”

“Of course, she is, lookin’ at your face,” Downer smirked.

Guero closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I will throw you into the goddamned ocean, man. This ain’t funny. Poor chick is all types of baby fawn in the headlights back there. Whoever took our cash, they fucking scared the shit outta her. I know we gotta move soon, but if we rush her...”

“She’ll freak out again,” EZ finished for him, the trickiness of the situation making his head burn, kicking himself for letting his temper get the better of him instead of being more tactile. He began to put the pieces together, the situation adding up, Bishop’s assessment that she was likely a stowaway and had nothing to do with the raid upon their payment making sense. He was about to make a suggestion with how they should proceed when Angel widened his eyes, nodding in the direction of the container.  

Her careful climbing out from between the crates was halted as soon as she saw EZ, who took a few steps back. “I’m sorry I scared you, I really am. What Guero said, though, he wasn’t lying. I got mad and lost it, and I shouldn’t have. We don’t hurt women and I promise nobody is gonna hurt you.”  

Choice words for a man very capable of hurting women, but he had to do what he had to do in order to smooth her frayed nerves in the interests of unloading the cargo as quickly as possible.

Her eyes went straight to Guero, her throat tightening as she gulped. She didn’t trust a single soul standing there, but the young, handsome man who had talked to her so gently, she felt a lot less wary of him, at least. “Come on, blue eyes. It's alright.”  

He smiled again, reaching out his hand as she pushed herself up, leaning close to the crates while shuffling along, reaching to grasp the large backpack that had been lying a short way from the open crate. Tentative steps took her almost to the front, pausing, her trembles returning, all men bar Guero backing away slowly, giving her some space.  

Edging nearer, she reached with a shaky arm, her fingers meeting his, stepping from the container. Fresh air. It felt good after so long cooped up within the steel structure, just under a month at sea. The sudden surge of that air, coupled with her underfed and nervous state meant that she wasn’t conscious long enough to enjoy it, Guero catching her when she suddenly passed out.  

When she came around, her surroundings were different, sitting bolt upright in panic before the voice that had soothed her before spoke. “Hey, don’t stress, it’s alright.” Turning, she saw Guero, sitting next to her on the passenger side of a van, the rest of the men working hard to move their cargo over to the container that’d been her hiding place for the last three weeks. “You fainted, so I brought you to the van. I guess I should thank you, cuz’ now I don’t have to bust my balls offloading.”  

He was there to make sure she didn’t escape before revealing what she knew first and foremost, she knew that, but she was okay with it. He had set her at ease when she still felt frightened, the softness he’d shown to her penetrating through the layers of trauma that she scarcely wanted to scratch the surface of; the reason behind why she had ended up within the container in the first place.  

Men who were kind to her did not exist in the world she had come from. She truly didn’t know if they existed where she’d ended up either, but she did want to trust that the one sitting next to her was sincere. It would make a refreshing change if he was.

“Emma,” she suddenly whispered, tucking her matted hair behind her ear, chewing the side of her thumb nervously. “My name is Emma.”

Guero was surprised that she’d actually revealed that, thinking the girl still looked much too petrified to speak. “Good to meet you, Emma. Damn, and I was all set to keep on calling you blue eyes for a little longer.”  

He had charm in shades, Emma smiling shyly. A charming man. She’d met plenty of those in her lifetime, and while there was something about him that told her she could trust he wasn’t about to hurt her; her brain didn’t quite allow her to fully accept it.  

In fact, it suggested strongly that she attempt to escape, get the hell out of there. Her body, however, was much too weak and dehydrated to co-operate with the overwhelmingly strong urge to flee. Once again, she was held at the mercy of the agenda of men, no matter that one of them at least seemed to be well-meaning.  

They always were, until they weren’t.  

Before she could slip even further into her thoughts, a soft tap at the passenger window almost made her dive clean out of her skin, the shorter man with the thick beard standing there, looking immediately apologetic for spooking her. Guero leaned over, pressing the window button, the glass sliding down smoothly, Emma chewing at her thumb furiously.  

“We’re done, mano. Has she spoken yet?” His eyes flitted between Guero and the girl, the former leaning around her a little to speak.

“I know her name’s Emma. That’s about it.”

Bishop carefully extended his hand towards her, moving slow, his smile wide. “Hello, Miss Emma. I’m Bishop. Look, you ain't in any shape to leave here alone, so we’re gonna take you back to Santo Padre with us. I called my wife and she’s gonna come check you over. She was a medic in the army, so she knows how to look after you. That cut on your head needs stitching, sweetheart.” He expected her to recoil from his offered hand, but to his surprise she reached to offer a tentative shake.

Guero winced at his statement, imagining the ire he likely received. If Mrs Losa enjoyed one thing, it was undisturbed sleep and lots of it. “Shit, man. I bet you were popular.”  

His cringe revealed it all. “Oh, my ass is toast, bro,” he chuckled, “see you back there.”

“Eileen’s awesome,” he assured her, reaching to close the window again. “Nobody calls her that, though. She’s just Lee to us. Damned tough chick, too. Also, she’s got this thing where she’ll ask you the same question or make the same statement three different ways, but she’s cool. She says the word fuck or variants of it more than anybody I’ve ever met! Patches us up when we get scraped around as well. She runs her bike repair shop from the yard our clubhouse is at, too. What that woman don’t know about a Harley isn’t worth knowing.”  

He realised it was a little bit of an info dump on her, but he wanted to make sure she knew all about where she was going, and who she’d meet there. Somehow, he thought it might help settle her. Emma nodded, her mouth flickering a slight smile. Once more, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the driver’s side door opened, a young guy with huge glasses getting in.  

“Hey, I’m Bottles,” he spoke, nodding with a smile.  

“Emma.” she whispered, her trembles starting up again. She pressed herself as close to the passenger door as she could, her chest heaving rapidly. A new person in her space. No. She did not like that.  

Guero slowly reached to place his hand atop hers, his thumb skimming her knuckles. “I know I could tell you a hundred times and you probably wouldn’t believe me, but ain’t nothing bad gonna happen, mamacita. You’re safe with us.” 

She made no move to acknowledge that, her eyes scanning the surroundings as the van started up, looking around as they drove forward, the guy who had pulled a gun on her taking the lead aboard a big, black motorcycle.  

She noted that the docks were virtually empty, a few security guards milling around, Emma ducking in her seat slightly, turning away from the window until she’d passed them by. Her eyes then looked to the large, orange cranes that flanked the edge of the water. It was being lifted by one of those and placed with an almighty boom upon the concrete that had alerted her to her arrival in California earlier that day, lying in wait for her opportunity to sneak out from within.  

Unfortunately for her, shipping containers could not be opened from the inside. She would have been spared getting pistol whipped by the men who’d liberated the MC’s cash if they could.

“So, you came from New York then, huh?” Bottles asked as they hit the freeway, adjusting his glasses as his foot pressed the accelerator pedal. “Odd way to travel from one coast to the other, isn’t it?”

Guero immediately turned, shaking his head, his hand making a cutting motion against his neck. He could barely believe the prospect didn’t understand that if there was a simpler method of travel available for her, she’d have likely taken it. Stowing away within a container pointed directly to desperation. He didn’t know her story, though, he supposed. What he did know was that the young woman at his side was still too frightened to reveal any details over it to them.  

“You thirsty?” he asked, looking around the dash. “I think there’s a bottle of water around here somewhere.” He spotted it within the door panel, poking up from within the space where other stashed junk cluttered, not thinking as he leaned across the to grab it. Immediately, she jumped. “Shit,” he winced, backing off. “Sorry. The water’s down there, help yourself.”  

God, what the fuck had happened to her, he couldn’t help but furtherly wonder. She reached for the water, her heart sinking to see the litre bottle was but a third full, gulping it back gladly. She had packed a supply in her backpack for the journey, but it truly hadn’t been enough. For the last three days, she’d drunk nothing at all, and hadn’t eaten in five.  

Planning for a journey she’d never taken before, without being weighed down too heavily by provisions had been tough in what to choose, surviving on protein bars, the lightest, most nutrient dense sustenance she could think to take on her voyage. Along with ten litres of water in two five litre bottles. Those had been weighty enough on their own in the huge, camping-style backpack that had carried them sturdily.  

“Better?” She nodded yes. “You hungry? We can stop if you want food, there’ll be a twenty-four-hour diner someplace along the journey.” She shook her head, although the truth was, Emma was utterly starving. She didn’t feel comfortable with that idea, though, didn’t trust herself not to run and make the situation a thousand times worse. Also, and at complete odds with that, she didn’t want to inconvenience them. Not inconveniencing anyone was all she knew.  

“I could eat,” Bottles piped up, indicating to move past a slow-moving wagon.  

“You could always eat, man. You’re getting a gut.”  

A smirk curled the corner of his mouth, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “We can’t all be like you, burning calories by constantly running your mouth.”

Guero began to grin, reaching to punch a soft fist into his side. “And if being a complaining bitch burned calories, you’ve be the size of a fucking Olsen twin.”  

The exchange tugged at the corners of Emma’s mouth, the comedy routine making her feel a little more secure. She sensed that if they had ill intentions, their demeanour would have been much more sinister than the playful exchange of banter she witnessed, which lasted on and off for most of the journey. If they meant to harm her, would Guero especially have been so careful around her?  

Truly, if they were men of nefarious intentions, they’d have tied her up and slung her into the back of the van without the first care for her comfort. Her tension began to unwind a little more, moving slowly back into the seat beside him properly, his full lips curling into a smile of warmth.  

“How you doing? Feeling less spooked?”

She nodded meekly, her eyes downcast. Baby steps. He had to let her do everything on her own timeframe, her body still a little stiff as she shifted to get comfortable, her muscles aching from being cooped up for such a long period of time, her neck tight and sore. He saw that, gently lifting his arm up, gesturing to his chest with a small nod. “Curl up, if you wanna?”  

She did. She really wanted to. To have the comfort of a man’s protective arm around her was something she hadn’t experienced since childhood. It would feel foreign to her, yet that couldn’t quite stop her craving it. Bravely, she rested her head against his chest, feeling his arm slide behind her shoulders, his hand resting gently at the top of her arm.  

Comfort from a man; it was alien to her entirely, but how wonderful it felt after so long. A man who had invited her into his personal space and wasn’t going to hurt her, she realised. His demeanour was so different to what she was used to, and right there in that van, the tiny part of her that allowed her to trust him was rewarded.  

She was free. She was safe. At last. Finally, she could relax a little.

[sp00kymulderr]

How some of my faves react to you coming out as non-binary

Feat Marcus Pike, Ezra, Max Phillips, Din Djarin

-Marcus, bless him, finds it harder to process than he shows. He’s very, very careful with you to begin with, almost like he’s pulling away and that worries you a lot. It’s not because he has any problems with you being non-binary of course, he loves you regardless of anything and would never be so small-minded, but simply because he had very little dealings in life with anyone who wasn’t cis and he is so scared of doing anything wrong. That and grasping that he is in a queer relationship is something he finds confusing, for a while. If you introduce new pronouns, he messes them up a lot and is absolutely miserable every time that happens. You have to tell him to stop apologising so often, that it’s okay when he has questions, when he needs to correct himself. You tell him it’s a pretty normal reaction and that, no of course he hasn’t upset you, but he probably does need reassurance the most. He’s a sweet, kind, caring person beyond belief but he’s also extremely self-deprecating and the thought that he is accidently misgendering or misnaming you - even while he’s still adjusting to something new - is a huge failure in his mind. 

-Ezra is one of the least unphased, and definitely the most proud of you on your coming out. The man is no stranger to any of this, he’s seen a lot, knows a lot, and very possibly does or has in the past used he/they pronouns (v much of the opinion ez is queer & gender fluid). Be prepared, as always with Ezra, to talk - to talk excitedly and freely and delve in to some deeper things you maybe hadn’t explored much til he came along. He is definitely the most likely of the bunch to to talk openly and enthusiastically about it, if you are, and will be the first to check in with your about your own feelings and also what you need from him. He wants to know everything - pronouns, feelings around touching certain body parts (if you’re sexual with each other), will you be changing your name? If so he’s very ready to come up with a list of frankly amazing names for you. He makes it fun, and so easy, and doesn’t ever seem to really mess up your identifiers. He’s always called you his ‘partner’ anyway, in that pretty drawl, and hey in the day and age he lives in he probably met an an abundance of people with neo pronouns and genders outside the binary that its no unusual thing.

-Max quite frankly doesn’t care all that much - it definitely doesn’t bother him but also basically you can be whoever you like, as long as you’re still his little plaything. Blood is blood and sex is sex at the end of the day, regardless of gender or lack of. You have to remind him more often to begin with if you’re using new pronouns or a name, but anyway he has a silly little nickname for you he tends to use anyway so that’s less of a problem. He is possessive of you, and you’ve heard him correcting those around him who might make errors, but he’s never really prompted a conversation around your identity beyond what you tell him when you come out. He cares about you, in his own way, but I don’t imagine him being close enough to anyone that he’s emotionally involved enough to be anything more than simply respectful of your identity. 

-Din doesn’t really understand at first why this is a big thing for you, but that is meant in the nicest way possible. He absolutely, complete respects everything about you, everything you are but he grew up in a culture that did not place much emphasis on gender. He has known so many different people and species, why would he care in any exceptional way about someone's gender identity. You have to explain to him what it means to you, for him to really take note and become supportive in the way you need. From then on he is extremely protective of you, of your identity and making sure people respect that. He is easy-going and calm about anything you throw at him in your coming out, any changes you decide to make to yourself, your appearance, whatever. Hell, you’ve never even seen his face and you’re here for him - trust and respect him - how would he not do the same regardless of how you present yourself.

[drabbles-mc]

Random ask game letter generator:

Let’s go with the letters

K, R, D, L, E

Ahh thank you for these!

K. Who have you killed this year? Why did they have to die?: Ohhhhh baby I was picking them off left and right this year! 😂 Some of my most notable deaths IMO: Bishop Losa in Personal Business. He had to die because if the canon narrative wasn't going to punish him for his crimes, I was going to punish him. EZ Reyes in Alive. He had to die because my brain simply said it was his time and it would make for a very sad story. And I was right. Walt Breslin in Last Chance. He had to die because it was the only way that he was ever going to get out of the vicious cycle that he was in. And last, but never least, Carrillo in Losing Sight. He had to die because the reality of it is that sometimes relationships will never get closure. C'est la vie.

I've also had a couple fics this year where reader is the one who dies. Love that. Can't wait to see who gets taken out in 2023!

R. If you had to rewrite one of your stories from scratch? Which would it be? What would you do to it?: Okay, so I think that the one at the top of my list to rework would be my Tig fic Convince Me. I don't hate it by any means. But it was a whumptober fic so I was cranking out a fic a day, on a bit of a time-crunch. If I could go back and redo it with more time, I think I would just explore things differently. It's not my worst fic, but it's not one that I'm super confident about either. I was trying to get out of my comfort zone and it was definitely hard. But! It could've been worse 😂

D. Any drawings or pictures that had a bit influence on your writing?: I answered this one Here. But! Outside of the picture that I shared there, I will say that while on the hunt for faceclaims for OCs I always end up getting super inspired.

L. Which character did you write most this year? Why do you like them?: Ohhhh this is an interesting one because I had absolutely no idea! 😂 My assumption is to say that I've written more for EZ Reyes and Horacio Carrillo than anyone else this year. But to be fair I bounce around a lot between characters and fandoms lol. And I like them both for similar reasons. I love fictional men who get carried away with their atrocities and don't try to pretend that they're not. Like yes, king, fly off the handle I love you. I can do extreme angst with them or sickening fluff. I love having all the options!

E. Who's your favorite main character you've written?: I gotta say, that writing EZ feels like putting on my favorite t-shirt. It just feels right, you know???? I have fun with all of my guys but EZ is just so easy for me to tap into. Runner-ups: Walt Breslin, Juice Ortiz, and Horacio Carrillo, my beloveds.

End of the Year Writing Asks!

[phelanspharmacy]

Hearing Aids

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[hiccanna-tidbits]

WHAT UP @ohlooksheswriting HAVE AN INDIRECT CONTRIBUTION TO HICCUNZEL MONTH

SO I think my main reservation about shipping romantic Hiccunzel has always been the fact that I stan Hiccanna and Jackunzel so hard, like. I simply cannot look at Rapunzel x Hiccup and NOT go “but what of Jack and Anna??? Are they now fated to not find true love??? They’re gonna be so sad D:”

So the obvious solution all along was to have Hiccup and Rapunzel date Anna, Jack, AND each other, EZ

And HiJack and Annunzel are pretty solid gay ships, so like??? It kinda WORKS???

And thus the RotBTD discord came up with Hijannunzel, which might well be the most blursed ship in existence XD Legit poly ships are too powerful. Once you start shipping them, it’s like “oh, this solves SO many problems??? And also if they all got married and got a tax break they’d be OP as hell??? And having a 3-way support system of awesome people to kiss and cuddle and hang out with would be SICK???”

ANYWAYS! I decided to style this so that I put a thing I think each pair would bond over between their pictures because I think it’d be neat!!!

Rapunzel & Hiccup: Art!!! He sketches, she paints, and they definitely draw each other and nerd out over different art styles together!!! Catch them on an art museum date any day. They’ve also definitely made art of each other, and the rest of the polycule. Rapunzel & Jack: Outdoorsy winter fun!!! Like Rapunzel is literally ALWAYS down for a gigantic, Extra snowball fight and you can’t change my mind. Punz just really likes being outside (I mean, she was locked inside for years, can you blame her???) and appreciates all the seasons, but like...overappreciates winter because she figures it could use the love XD Anna & Jack: Sweets!!! I am 1000% convinced both these kids are sugar junkies. Anna has a preference for chocolate obviously, but Jack will devour anything with a sugar content Tooth would absolutely not approve of. They also both adore hot cocoa, and you can’t change my mind. Anna & Hiccup: Dragons/animals in general!!! Anna’s such an animal whisperer in Frozen 1, like. She gets three ducklings to jump into her hands, befriends Hans’ horse, vents to her own horse, and sees a guy talking to his reindeer like a buddy and just immediately starts doing the same thing. Ain’t no one convincing me Anna wouldn’t think dragons were the coolest shit ever, and she would try to (perhaps unwisely) befriend every single one.

Couldn’t include in this one, BUT ALSO:

Jack & Hiccup: Flying and thrill-seeking!!! Like they both seem to be hardcore adrenaline junkies, if Jack letting the wind blow him around every which way and Hiccup literally inventing a funky winged device so he can fly with Toothless is anything to go by. These two would really love flying and exploring together! The adventures AND the poor decisions would be unparalleled XD Rapunzel & Anna: Flower appreciation!!! They both dun got big springtime vibes, and would probably be constantly picking wildflower bouquets for each other. I feel like they’d get into gardening, and try to befriend all the pollinator bugs--even the scary ones XD Love that they both have floral motifs, and Anna’s is a sunflower while Rapunzel’s is...a literal sun flower XD Also love the idea of them bonding over girly stuff in general, and doing things like dress-shopping and meadow-frolicking together :D

Anyways, they all share an apartment and have movie and video game nights where they all get into a cuddle pile on the couch and it’s wholesome and fantastic. They also like to crash fancy parties paired off and then stage dramatic “reveals” where they get caught cheating on each other and make a whole production out of it, solely to be chaotic. Also to snack on fancy little cheese blocks on toothpicks and crostini. Have a great rest of your night.

Pic credits available upon request!

[imagineredwood]

"You're ok. I've got you. You know none of that stuff is real."

Summary: After a horror movie marathon, residual fear starts to take hold and EZ is there to save the day, or night. 

Pairing: EZ Reyes x female reader 

Warnings: Mentions of horror movies and slashers 

Word count: 628

"Are you scared, baby?"

You swallowed as you turned to look at EZ, the darkness outside of the bathroom making you uneasy, to say the least. You tried to shrug it off, not wanting to seem like a baby, but as you looked over at EZ, you found him looking at you with genuine concern, not an ounce of ridicule. 

"Uh,"

He sucked his teeth and pouted, rushing to finish drying himself off while you stood there, the fear from the horror movies you had binged watched earlier creeping up on you. You had thought you would be fine, that was until you realized that EZ still needed to take a shower and would have to leave you alone in the bedroom to go do that. The truth was, he probably had only been in there for a maximum of four minutes, but it felt like an eternity and soon enough you were taking yourself into the bathroom with him to seek some comfort just as he was stepping out. Now here you were. 

He dried the rest of his body quickly and then reached for his boxers, stepping into them before wrapping his arms around you. 

"It's ok, mi amor. No need to be scared. I'm here. Come on, let's go lay down." 

You nodded and allowed him to take you out of the bathroom and back to the bed, the darkness of the room quickly starting to refuel the fear that had simmered in your boyfriend's presence. The two of you climbed into bed, EZ sensing your tension and reaching over to flick on the bedside lamp. Almost immediately you felt a little better and snuggled into his side as he laid down. 

"You're ok. I've got you. You know none of that stuff is real."

You nodded but didn't say anything, simply enjoying the comfort he brought. He kept talking to you, both his voice and his affection working together to calm you down. 

"I won't let anyone hurt you. No one. None of those slashers or monsters are real. Just keep reminding yourself that. It's just you and me here, no one else. You're safe. I promise." 

You could feel your anxiety starting to simmer, your heart rate slowing as you snuggled in closer to him, already feeling entirely safe. There wasn't a single other place in the world that felt safer than being in EZ's arms, and right now, it was the best place to be. 

"Do you feel tired?" 

Shaking your head, you disagreed, all traces of sleepiness leaving you when you started seeing things in the shadows. EZ understood and reached for the remote, scrolling before he put on your favorite comfort show, the energy in the room instantly lifting and feeling much brighter. You turned in his arms slightly so you could get a better look at the TV, and EZ scooted up some until you were laying in his lap instead, himself now sitting up against the headboard. 

He let you lay there, hand gently stroking your head and your cheek, allowing both his touch and the TV to distract you. 

Within the hour, you were entirely back to your normal not scared self and were yawning, EZ smiling as he turned off the TV and laid back down beside you. He opted to leave the lamplight on and cuddled back in close to you, making sure you still felt the safety and protectiveness of his arms even if you weren't scared anymore. With a kiss to your shoulder and a sigh, he closed his own eyes, feeling accomplished that he could make you feel safe with him and make you feel protected from even the biggest, scariest characters that the horror movies you had watched had to offer.

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @elcococruz @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @iambabyharry @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @saturnsaree @multiyfandomgirl40 @destynelseclipsa @sadeyesgf @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon @abunnykisses @briana-mishell24 @angelreyesgirl @wrcn9fvlcver @peaches009 @capt-canadian @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @darklingveracruz @appropriate-writers-name @cind-in-real-life @blessedboo @montanaraed @kkim120 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @redpoodlern @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @danimals1096

EZ taglist 

@justazzii @xonickibaby @myakai13 @fanfictiontrash9

[rae-gar-targaryen]

loved you once [angel reyes x fem!reader]

A/N: So, this is NOT the Angel fic I previewed the other day. That one (and the EZ fic) is STILL COMING, I PROMISE! This just jumped into my head and wouldn’t leave. And I wrote it with a speed I am heretofore unfamiliar with (heretofore? Did I use that right?) I invented a tattoo and an ex-girlfriend for Angel, and I fudged the timeline a bit. So, apologies in advance for that. 

As always, if you want a tag in anything I write for Angel, EZ, the Mayans fandom (or anything else), please feel free to send me a message or an ask, or add yourself to the taglist (link in profile). 

Pairing: Angel Reyes x fem!tattoo artist!reader (as always, the appearance is ambiguous, but the reader is described as having female pronouns/parts. Also, the reader here speaks a bit of Spanish. I’m half Mexican, so I do imagine a latinx reader, but I hope I’ve written this so you can imagine yourself with no restriction.)

Word Count: 15.3K (HAHAHA WHAT THE FUCK all for a TWO AND A HALF MINUTE SONG, ARE YOU KIDDING ME????) of ANGST! (SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO ANGSTY) lyrical nonsense and the remnants of sticky, cotton-candy sadness … fluff that makes you feel empty. 

Warnings: ANGST, non-explicit references to infidelity, sexual references and sexual content, oral (male receiving), fingering and other nastiness -- so 18+ ONLY, please! Canon-typical douchebaggery, references to a past relationship, song references and poetry. (It is me, so yeah, poetry.)

Summary: You and Angel may as well be strangers now. But why? After all, you loved him once. And he loved you, right? Based on the song “Loved you Once” by Clara Mae. Listen here. 

--

We don't need to be best friends, we don't need to hang again. But tell me why we have to be strangers because I loved you once?

What were you doing here? You haven’t been back to the clubhouse in months. Not since -- well, you know. You hadn’t talked to him since then, either. But that wasn’t your own doing. 

No, Angel had erected a veritable wall of silence, and you respected him enough not to breach it. 

That was what relationships were all about, anyway, right? Mutual respect of the other’s needs? So when Angel had told you in no uncertain terms that your relationship was over, you were … upset. Understandably. You wanted to sit with him, talk about where this sudden insistence that you depart his life had come from, but he was resolute. With the absolute air of authority that comes with either a great deal of thought, or borne of virtually sudden external influence, with nothing in between. He clearly didn’t want to sit and talk about it. 

And so you didn’t. 

Ever mindful of his wellbeing, and when he was and was not receptive to communication. 

"It ain't working," he had said. You had settled for merely imagining the faraway look in his large, oilslick eyes, since he was much more interested in staring at his boots and the grooves in his floor, his forearms laid over spread thighs, unmoving and resolute from his spot at the end of the bed. Refusing to meet your eyes. 

From your seat next to him, you made to brush the arm closest to you with your fingers. When you touched, he gave no indication that you were even there. That he even felt you. Which you knew was bullshit. He always felt you. 

"Angel, what --" you hated the way your voice cracked as you tried to ask him what the hell was going on. You hated how you had sounded so small and quavering to your own ears. That wasn't who you were. You were clear, outspoken. It was always one of the things Angel said he loved about you. Loved.

You didn't know this, of course, but Angel hated it, too. How you’d sounded in that moment. Hated that his words had taken the fire out of yours, your voice unfamiliar in its timidity. 

"It ain't working," he repeated. "I can see it. Not my fault you can't." 

That was it. 

No "I'm sorry, querida." 

No "I hope we can stay friends." 

Not that you would expect an apology, or anything as cliché as a "let's be friends," from a steadfast man like Angel. Predictable in his volatility. 

You should have pushed back. Demanded an answer. You hated that you didn’t, the shock and sudden sadness morphing you into a silent, crystalline girl you didn’t recognize. Your eyes welled with tears, turning your head away from where Angel sat -- at least you wouldn’t let him see you cry. Even if you knew he knew the tears had spilled over your lashes and down your cheeks were of his own doing. 

You had arrived back at his place a day after your tense "conversation" to discover that your items you had come to reclaim were tossed into a box and left outside of the door. 

You had knocked once, in the hope that if Angel was home, he’d at least come to the door to shout through it, or, heaven forbid, would open it so you could look him in the eyes just once more while he shattered you. Your knock was met with silence, though you could have sworn you felt Angel on the other side of the door. 

In the months since then, you had cried (obviously), you had questioned (it was sudden, it wasn't just you; your friends were surprised, too), but most importantly, you had persevered. 

You had taken a bunch of new clients and inked some pieces you were incredibly proud of. You had gone out with your friends a few times, always with a wary eye on the door of the local dive, ya know… you never knew who would walk in.

Santo Padre is a small town, after all. And the cracks in your soul were nowhere close to healed. No molten gold to spill in and repair the fissures of your heart, rendering metamorphosis of something broken to something flawed, but beautiful. You sat, alone, still just… flawed. You had never felt less beautiful. Even after all this time. 

And your friend Aneesa, ever the supporter, would stop at nothing if it meant hyping you up enough to leave your cave of blankets, sheet masks, and comfort movies. Your only rule? All nights out with Aneesa were strictly girls’ nights. She was gracious and understanding of this rule, of course. She and Gilly had been together a touch longer than you and Angel. 

And if Angel had ever asked Gilly to ask Aneesa about you? Well… you never heard about it.

Not that Angel would do any of that. Shit like that was so middle-school. 

So, here you were. Back at the clubhouse after months of self-imposed exile for the sake of self-preservation. 

Coco had texted you -- the first you’d directly heard from anyone within Angel’s circle, inviting you to a patch party for some nameless, faceless newbie. The invitation had a string attached to it, of course -- the tattoo artist’s chair in the corner of the clubhouse needed a resident for any partygoers jonesing for new ink. Certainly, the new patch would need something decidedly “Mayan” to show off his new status. 

You had hesitantly agreed -- Aneesa would be in attendance of course, and offered herself as a human-sized buffer to separate you from people you were otherwise hoping to avoid. 

--

Now, perched near the tattoo chair, you busied yourself with setting out your portfolio of completed pieces, sketches and most-requested designs. You wiped down the chair a few more times than strictly necessary, but you wanted to be ready for anyone who might plop themselves down for a new piece of art. 

The main room of the clubhouse was sweltering -- a familiar blend of desert heat, cigarette smoke, citronella, and the smell of citrusy, foamy beer. The dim lighting and thundering bass giving everything a slightly blurry edge in your party-periphery. You glanced across the room at where Aneesa and Gilly sat together on a corner couch, thighs pressed together. Aneesa tossed her head back in a full-bodied laugh at something Gilly had whispered into her ear, swatting his arm -- Gilly’s reciprocal smile demonstrating his pleasure at having garnered such a reaction from his girl. 

A wave of cheers and noise accompanied the thwack of the clubhouse door swinging open -- more Mayans pouring in, jostling one another's shoulders, slapping each other on the arms, and good-naturedly cajoling. 

There was Coco, mid-pull of the cigarette between his lips, quicksilver eyes flashing around the room, taking stock of who was where. EZ followed, million-watt smile on full display as he gently guided a pretty girl with long, inky hair through the bottleneck at the entryway. 

If EZ was ambling his way in, then, surely, not far behind ...

With an arm around a tall, broad guy you hadn’t seen before, was Angel. Midway through a joke with the guy you assumed was the new patch, you took the opportunity to study the man you had once considered the moonlit orbit of your entire world. 

You hated to admit it to yourself, but he looked good… His arms still replete with thick, corded muscle. His hair was a tad longer on top than you remembered, slicked back and belied with cleanly-cropped sides. His smile as warm and blinding as the cruel light at the end of your better dreams, only for you to awake each day alone. 

As you continued your silent study, you were surprised to see -- still adorning his left arm … the tattoo you had given him on the day you had first met. You had thought he would have blacked it out by now … a cover-up on top of a cover-up. 

But there it was --- the soft, leafy greens creeping down his forearm on sharp vines, abutted with bursting blooms -- small, ornate gladiolus buds and a sprig of purpling rosemary. Such a flowery piece on the arm of someone like Angel might have been laughable. But if anyone dared, he would simply stare, stone-faced, with burning eyes and a set jaw, ready to ask just what they thought was so fucking funny. 

To you? It was perfection. It was remembrance. 

‘Cause I loved you, once… 

---

You had moved to Santo Padre from Oakland. Hardly an axis-tilting move, but significant enough to you. 

Your friend Oliver had offered you a seat at his tattoo shop. And you? You were positively itching to get out of the city. A few too many bad nights with a few people you could no longer in good conscience consider friends. 

So, here you sat, resident of one of two chairs in this corner parlour off the so-called “main” drag in sweltering, dusty Santo Padre. 

Your books were pretty clear … Not that you attributed much logic to the ebb and flow in any conceivable pattern of the tide that was tattoo shop patrons, but January seemed an agonizingly slow month. You filled the idle time with keeping the shop neat, disinfecting and re-disinfecting every surface, and organizing Oliver’s books. 

And if you weren’t dreaming up new sketches and designs for the more adventurous prospective client, you were jotting idle lines of lyrical poetry in the margins of your sketchbook. 

If the month dragged on like this, you were sure you could publish an entire book of moody, mid-winter prose that would make Charles Bukowski want to drown himself in stiff Cabernet. 

The dinging of the bell above the parlour door yanked you from your doodling stupor. You looked up to see who had come in, your gaze met with a towering, golden-skinned man donned in a leather vest, his boots squeaking on the shop’s linoleum floor as he made his way to the front desk. He leaned over it and rapped his silver-ringed hand against the top with the ease and comfort of someone who had been in many times before. If the ink trailing his arms was any indication, he may as well be a regular, though you hadn’t seen him in before. There was no way you could forget that jawline, and those shoulders. 

“Yo,” he called in greeting, eyes flashing to where you stood, walking to meet him at the counter. You swore you saw his gaze dart over your form, giving you the old up-down. An easy smile graced his full lips as he made himself comfortable leaning against the counter.  

“Oliver here?” 

You shook your head, the action serving to answer his question and --hopefully-- clear your head of the foggy spell this man was casting over you with his presence alone.

“Nah, sorry. He’s guest-chairing at his buddy’s shop in L.A. Did you have an appointment?” 

“I look like the kind of guy with a datebook?” He chuckled at his own joke. “No appointment, corazón.” 

“Walk-in? Always a risky strategy,” you lilted. 

“What can I say? I’m a risk-taker,” he replied with the practiced ease of breezy flirtation. 

You smiled softly, grabbing Oliver’s calendar from the desk, flipping to the following week. “He’ll be back in next week, if you want to wait?” 

“That’s no good for me, babe, I’ll be out of town.”

“Ah.” You huffed a bit through your nose “Bike rally?” You asked, gesturing at his worn leather kutte, cringing internally a little at the teasing edge your voice had taken on. Were you always this bad of a flirt? 

The man looked at you shrewdly for a beat -- seemingly trying to discern just how much fun you were making of him before taking mercy on you and peeling back the slight layer of awkwardness the conversation had taken.  He scrubbed the back of his neck before confirming,

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he rumbled a chuckle. “Why? You wanna go?” He raised a full brow at you in a mild challenge. 

Your eyes widened at his seemingly-serious invitation. You took in the quirk of his lips, causing the slightest crinkle at the corner of his warm eyes -- the look of a man borne of good humor and who smiled often. It was endearing, and if you were honest, made you melt a little. Even if you now realized he was teasing you. 

“Sorry, guapo,” you cracked a smile of your own, gesturing at the empty shop. “As you can see, I’m a very busy girl. Highest of demand.” 

“Claro,” he replied. “So, I better get in while the getting’s good, huh? Your chair open now?” 

“Uhm,” you chewed your lower lip, now slightly nervous at the prospect of spending more time with this man. “¿Quieres esperar para Olí? I won’t be offended. You haven’t even seen any of my pieces.” 

A beat of silence passed between you both, the man seemingly weighing his options. 

"I mean," You broke the silence and leaned forward, lightly tapping a fingernail against his bicep. “What if my art style doesn’t suit the king of the bikers?” 

"Something tells me you'll suit me just fine." His smirk was full-bore now. He didn't miss a beat, did he?

You were silent, probably for a few moments too long. Was he actually flirting with you? You blinked. He probably flirts with everyone ... get over yourself, you internally chided.

"Angel," the man said, recovering the moment and holding out a large, ringed hand for you to shake. You gave him your name, shaking his hand firmly. 

You nodded your head over your shoulder, toward your chair. 

"Well, come on back, Angel, you can tell me about what we're doing today."

Angel followed you back to your station, and you could swear you felt his dark eyes on your form as you walked, the thought that this man was looking at you with any kind of discerning attention made your cheeks warm a little. He folded his long body into the chair you gestured toward, and you took the rolling seat next to him. He proffered his left arm to you, tracing down a spot on his forearm.

"Just wanna cover this up," he paused, letting you observe the offending ink. "It's about time." 

"'Clara Forever,' huh?" You took in the faded, loopy lettering down his forearm. "Who's Clara?" Your tone was gently teasing by nature, but he seemed to clam up a bit at the question, regarding your sharp tongue with sharper eyes.

"Well, it wasn't forever," he finally bit out, shoulders now a little more tense than before.

"Aw, cariño," you sighed in good-natured taunting. "Didn't anyone ever tell you the number one rule of tattoo? 'Forever' is a certain jinx. And a name is almost never a good idea… unless it's your dog's."

You made a sweeping hand gesture over the rest of his person, your eyes noticeably cataloguing the ink adorning most of the real estate on his arms and what little you could see of the top of his chest. 

"How did anyone let you get this far without telling you the rules?"

He relaxed at the humor in your soft voice, comfortable now that he had confirmation that you were teasing him rather than seriously ridiculing. His posture relaxed once more, he waggled his eyebrows at you, also teasing,

"Le sorprendería saber que nunca fui uno para seguir las reglas?” He asked. Would it surprise you to learn that I was never one for rules? 

"¿Tú?" Your eyes widened in mock surprise. “Para nada.” Not at all.  

"Hey," he swatted your arm gently. "Cuidaté, niña. Insulting your customers? I can see why your chair is empty." He chuckled at his own little jab as you busied yourself gathering your supplies.

You turned and reached for him, holding his arm in one hand and running your now-gloved thumb over "Clara Forever." 

"So?" You queried, "What are we doing with this? How do you want to cover it?" 

Angel shrugged, the leather adorning his shoulders creaking ever-so-slightly with the movement. 

"Figured I would just black it out. I've been putting it off long enough. To hell with her anyway, yaknow?"

"Hmm…" you considered his proposal. "I could do that, if that's what you really want. Easy enough. But…" you trailed.

He shifted in the chair, arching an eyebrow at you.

"But?" He pressed.

Now it was your turn to shrug. You released his arm from your grip and gestured to the booklet containing photos of your most prized work. 

"Why waste the opportunity to give yourself something you really want?" You handed him the book. "Besides… from the looks of things, you have limited real estate left on this arm. May as well fill it with something… more you?” You made to hand him the scrapbook. “You can see what else I've done. See if anything sparks an idea." 

Angel regarded you for a moment. Leaning forward in the chair and slightly more into your space, eyes never leaving yours. He took the edge of the book, deliberately brushing his fingers over yours as he did so, making you hold your breath a little. If Angel noticed, he had the decency not to say anything. 

“Why not?”

You exhaled softly as he leaned away again, flipping his way through your book. 

As he scrutinized the photographic renderings of your pieces, you took the chance to really take him in. His strong jaw and full lips were objectively pleasant, abutted by deliberately-shaped facial hair. He had a prominent brow, something that would surely give away his feelings, even if he decided not to verbalize them. There was no hiding a frown or a smile on that face.  You fiddled with your fingers as he flipped through the pages. 

“This is some seriously top-notch shit, querida,” he voiced his approval, followed by a warm smile. He flipped his way through your minimalist renderings, floral pieces, lines of script, and one particularly involved piece with a burgundy phoenix and lifelike flames...

“Yeah?” You couldn’t hide the pleasure in your voice that he might think of you in a positive light. “Which one do you like?” 

He flipped the book to you, gesturing at a geometric planetary canvas piece you had etched down a prior client’s thigh. 

“Did you think of that one?” 

“The client had their ideas, I just execute, I guess… That was a fun one.” You shrugged, glancing at your shoes scuffing at the linoleum, suddenly feeling very shy under his scrutiny.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he leaned forward once more, his fingers gently brushing along your chin to bring your eyeline to his. “Don’t downplay your talent. You’re a badass. Own that shit.” He gave you a soft wink, releasing your chin from his grip.

Um, wow.

Was it always this hot in the back of the shop? Or were you just spontaneously combusting? Did that seriously just happen?

All you could do was nod. 

“Aight,” he crossed his legs at the ankles, making himself comfortable in the chair. “I’ve decided.” 

“Yeah?” You breathed, “What’ll it be?” 

As if he was doing nothing more complicated than ordering fries, Angel pointed at your book. “Dealer’s choice.” 

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t believe he was just going to trust you to cover up his ex’s name etched into his arm. “¡Oye! Did you hear nothing I said earlier about walk-ins being risky? Nothing about the rules?”

Angel scoffed. “About as well as you heard that I don’t give a shit about rules, babe,” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You like rules, huh?” 

Oh. The rumbling tone his voice had taken on with his last question did not go unnoticed by you. If there was any heat to spare in this shithole desert-town, it was now one hundred percent flooding through your body. 

But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d had that effect on you… (although, let’s be real, he probably, definitely, already knew).

“Fine, Angelito,” the mocking tone had returned to your voice. “But unlike Clara, this one’s gonna be forever. If I find out you cover up my art, I’m gonna blacklist you at every shop in Southern California.” You raised an eyebrow at him in a challenge. “Can you live with that?”

Angel nodded. 

“Do your worst, Vince.” 

You wrinkled your nose at the moniker. “Vince?” 

“Yeah,” he seemed so assured in his own cleverness. “Like Van Gogh?” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Van Gogh!?” You feigned offense, hand-over-heart, lashes batting. “Not even Frida? Come oooon, Angelito.” 

He chuckled. Shifting in the chair and offering his arm to you so you could get him ready. 

“You gotta earn ‘Frida,’ dulcita.” 

“Everyone’s a critic,” you sigh, shifting your focus and taking stock of the space on Angel’s arm and what you had learned of him so far.

Someone who was seemingly confident and breezy, whose rough exterior belied something softer that was just out of reach. Someone who clearly cherished things and people he adored, if the tribute you were now covering was anything to go by. And, by the same token, more than a little impulsive. He wore his heart on his sleeve, apparently literally. 

You gathered your inks and began to work, your playlist and the buzzing of the tattoo gun filling the silence. 

It’s not like you had any reason to know it, but Angel considered you as you were working, admiring your focus and the intensity with which you afforded your art. Was he a little nervous about the fact that you were free-handing a design for him off the top of your head? Maybe... But what was life without a little risk? And he certainly wouldn’t mind a little risk with you. You were, it was obvious to him, very pretty. It was more than a little off-putting how easily you traded quips with him, seemingly unaffected by his presence and everything that came with it. If it wasn’t for the little hitches in your breath when he gently flirted with you, he wouldn’t have anything to go off of in terms of your interest. Something that was both respectable and maddening to him. 

He reached his other arm over to the side-table, grabbing your sketchbook and idly flipping through the etchings. 

Not only was the book filled with little designs, splashes of watercolor mixing with pen and charcoal, but he noticed the cramped words in the margins, perusing at his leisure and ignoring the itching buzz of the needle on the skin of his other arm.

“So, not only a Vince, but a Frost,” he broke the silence. 

You paused your work, wiping your brow with the back of your hand and looking at him with a question in your eyes.

He tapped his finger along the lines of prose in your book. “A poet,” he said. 

“Ah,” you said. “Uhm, more like a bad poet,” you chuckled, embarrassed. You made to begin again, when Angel gently gripped the wrist of your free hand. 

“The fuck did I just say?” He lightly tugged, forcing you to look into his maddeningly honey-dark eyes. “Don’t brush off your shit. Would Frida do that?” 

You regarded his eyes for a moment longer, darting your gaze to his pouty lips, resolutely set in their mission of imparting some of his confidence onto you. 

“Point taken, Angel,” you pulled your hand from his grip, which he released, trailing his fingertips over your hand as he did so. “I’m the greatest poet who ever lived, you’ve convinced me. Fuck William Shakespeare.” 

“Yeah,” Angel boisterously agreed, pleased to be bolstering you but surprising you with the little barking shout, “Fuck that dude!” 

You chuckled, shaking your head and silently returning to your work, the silence filled once more with the pleasant buzzing as you drew away. 

When you were finished, you released Angel’s arm, allowing him to inspect the clean lines of the greenery that you had drawn out of his former-love tribute. What were once loopy, cursive letters were now vines creeping steadily along his forearm, soft, yellow and red gladiolus buds emerging from where Clara’s name had once sat, neatly finished with the clean lines of the purpling sprig of rosemary along the edge of the piece. 

Angel was speechless, leaving you to marinate in your nerves. 

“It’s …” he started, “... flowery,” he supplied, lamely. 

“No shit it’s flowers,” you shot back, feeling a little defensive now, but wanting to make a quick recovery. “And they’re for you, Angel.” 

He seemed puzzled. 

“Gotta say, Vince, this is the first time a chick’s gotten me flowers,” he chuckled, “Guess they won’t die?” 

“They won’t,” you assured. “They really are for you, you know? Look at you, the rest of your ink. What it covered. You’re clearly a man formed by your experiences. It only seemed right, si? Gladiolus? They’re for remembrance. Rosemary? Symbolizes thoughtfulness and memory.” 

You continued as you began wipe the piece clean before wrapping it in new saran-wrap, “Your memories and choices make you who you are, sure. But you never know… something good could bloom from them, through the cracks."

His silence at the end of your little soliloquy was deafening. He hated it, you were sure of it. Fuck. Why did you have to get so fucking clever with him? You should’ve just done some black ink in something tribal, something masculine. What the fuck was wrong with you??

You dared to sneak a glance at his face, only to find that he was already staring at you, lips softly upturned in the hinting bloom of a smile, tarpit eyes twinkling with a good-natured mirth he would come to reserve just for you. 

“Fuck Shakespeare. That was damn beautiful, Frida.” 

The heat had returned to your cheeks, standing quickly. 

You stripped off your gloves, and made to turn your way to the counter, gathering the aftercare sheet and balm for Angel to take with him. 

You spun back toward him before he could get up.

“Oh! Can I take a picture?” You held up your phone, shaking it lightly. “For the ‘gram?” 

“Sure thing,” Angel dutifully held his arm under the lamp you had used to work, letting the fresh ink and colors pop against the golden dunn of his skin. 

You took a few photos, deciding to scroll through your camera roll later on and post your favorite. You made quick work of wrapping his arm in a sheet of clean plastic wrap before relinquishing your hold on his arm, turning to walk back to the counter. 

“Uhm,” you trailed … the telltale squeak of Angel’s boots on the linoleum indicating he was following you back to the front of the shop. You assembled everything into a bag for Angel to take with him, grabbing one of your cards from the front card-holder, and quickly jotting your number on the back next to your where the instagram handle for your art page was neatly printed, hoping he didn’t notice your sneaky little move. 

Angel resumed his comfortable lean against the counter, turning and tilting his forearm, scrutinizing your work. 

“It’s gonna be a clean one-fifty, Angel.”

He looked slightly surprised at the figure, a light frown dusting his features. 

“You sure about that? For the size, and the color, and time and everything? It’s been, like, hours.”

You shrugged. 

“We’ll call it the friends-and-family rate.” 

He gave you a long look, very clearly looking you up and down now, a prolonged edition of the greeting he had graced you with when he had entered your shop mere hours before. 

“And is that what we are now, querida? Friends?” 

How was it even possible for his voice to reach such a low register when he said these things to you?

While your insides flip-flopped at the flirtation, you hoped your face was the impassive mask you were trying to school it into. You subtly brushed your slightly-sweating palms against the frayed hem of your shorts before bringing an elbow up to the counter, resting your chin in your palm, lightly batting your lashes at him before responding...

“Sure,” you replied. There! Easy, breezy, cool-as-you-please. How does it feel, Angel?

“One day with you and friends already?” He rapped his ringed hand gently against the counter. “Can’t wait to see where we’re at tomorrow.” 

He swiped the bag off of the counter, tossing a few crisp bills onto the countertop and a wink over his shoulder before exiting the shop. 

You counted the bills on the counter, watching as Angel left the building.

Holy shit.

Three hundred bucks. He had tipped you 100 percent of what you charged him.

Cheeky.

Maybe Santo Padre wasn’t so bad, after all… 

---

Now, staring at him from across the room made you feel like you were drowning in the sickly-sweet cotton candy of sugared dreams, now lost to time. The saccharine balm melted to acrid wax, leaving you with only the tinge of bitterness. 

You were jostled out of your reverie by the sudden appearance of EZ’s blocky frame, ambling toward you with the same girl from before on his arm. 

He greeted you with a slow wave and a soft smile. 

“Hey, girl,” he greeted, clearly unsure of how much friendlier and closer he should approach you. 

You took mercy on Angel’s sweet, (big) little brother, opening your arms slightly for a hug. EZ took to the gesture like an over-excited golden retriever, scooping you up and spinning you once, before putting you back where he found you, slightly dizzier than you were before. 

He offered your name to the girl by his side, who looked pleasantly amused at the spectacle before her, her amusement melting to recognition at the name EZ had imparted to her. 

Ah. So she knew who you were. 

You tried not to let that realization sour your encounter, easing a practiced smile onto your features and offering your hand to the girl to shake. 

“Oh!” EZ chuckled. “This is Gaby -- er, Gabriela.” 

“Encantada,” you eased, gently shaking her hand before having a realization of your own. “Gaby, as in Leti’s friend?” 

She nodded, a warm smile illuminating her already sunshiney features. You could see why EZ obviously liked her. She had the practiced social grace of a debutante, but the friendly aura of someone you had known for your entire life. 

“I hope you’re keeping Ezekiel out of trouble,” you teased gently. 

“Only as well as I can,” she replied. EZ rubbed the back of his neck as you two gossiped about him like he wasn’t standing right there. 

“Listen, hermanita,” EZ began, swirling the dregs of his beer around the bottle clutched in his hand as the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, “About Angel --” 

That was a hard no. 

“Coco!” You called as you spotted the lithe man prowling through the crowd after obtaining a drink from the bar, effectively shutting EZ up. 

Coco sidled over, slinging an arm over your shoulder and nodding in greeting to EZ and Gaby. 

“Wassup, chiquita? Over here with all the cool kids?” 

“You know damn well I was never cool enough for the cool kids,” you knocked your shoulder into Coco’s good-naturedly. 

“Dunno about that, pequeña,” Coco took a drag of his cigarette, sighing as he exhaled. “I’ve got some pretty cool body armour thanks to you.” 

“All in a day's work,” you mock-saluted. You were doing great. Keep it light, keep it friendly. You may be able to make it out of this unscathed, after all. 

Gaby and EZ were speaking softly to one another just to your side, as you and Coco continued your conversation. 

“So, who’s the new guy?” You asked, nodding over to where Angel and the still-unnamed newbie were tossing back shots. You tried to ignore that each one had girls placed on each of their laps. Well, mostly you were trying to ignore one girl placed on one lap; tried to ignore as ringed fingers trailed up and down her thigh hypnotically as he howled in laughter at something the new guy had said. 

The longer you stared at the way he was touching her, the more You thought you could feel it on your own skin. And you knew all too well how that touch felt. Memories, make you, right? 

You blinked harshly, turning your face back to Coco’s, only to find his hawkish eyes trained on you as he continued to smoke. Now you were certain he had seen everything you had, and more. And you cursed yourself for slipping. Because nothing slipped past Coco. 

He took mercy on you nevertheless. 

“Andres. He’s aight. You may not remember him from before, when he was just a prospect.” 

“Guess not,” you agreed, shrugging amiably, suddenly very interested in toying with the hem of your flowy little summertime skirt. 

“Mierda,” you heard Coco hiss, glancing up to see none other than the new guy -- Andres -- walk over, his arm around the waist of the girl from his lap, accompanied by none other than Angel Reyes, furnished with his own lap-turned-arm candy. She was giggling in his ear, popping her gum and bumping her hips against Angel’s as she walked by his side. 

You felt EZ stiffen from your other side. 

Great. 

The easy smile you’d had when conversing with Coco now felt positively screwed into place, settling unnaturally, a stranger's face made up of your own features. 

Andres smirked at you in greeting, eyes trailing over you -- the most unwelcome iteration of that gesture in this context to-date. 

“I hear you’re the girl to see about some ink.” 

You bit back the snarky response that rose to your tongue. You see anyone else here, tonto?

“Sure am,” you replied, cool as you pleeeeaseeee. Maybe a little too cool. The ice in your voice was obvious to everyone except the strangers before you. 

You really were doing great, weren’t you? 

“Great,” the new meat brushed the girl off from his side, plopping unceremoniously into your chair. “You did that right?” He pointed behind you to where Angel was standing, gesturing at his arm and your miniscule mural of memorial greenery. 

“Cierto.” You nodded, sparing Angel’s arm the barest of glances.

“Aight, well, none of that girly shit, alright, sweetheart? Angel may have had the good grace not to say anything, but flowers ain’t really my style, yeah?” 

What the fuck.  

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Coco visibly tense next to you, obviously displeased at the uncalled-for critique of your work. Of a piece he himself had often admired. He would never admit it, but he thought the story behind it was even better. It’s like you had walked out of some shitty romcom Leti watched with her tittering friends and into Angel’s dreams, sinking yourself beneath Angel's skin like a dream he would recount to all of his friends. Coco knew the most about you by nature of Angel's second-hand stories when you were together. Although Coco thought, once he had met you, Angel's stories didn't do you justice. How wonderful and talented you were. How warm and welcoming.

Angel watched the exchange silently, clearly none too keen to defend the piece you had designed for him. That had come to mean so much to you. 

That stung.

You winced, almost imperceptibly. But you were certain Coco saw it, not much escaping his sniper’s eyes. EZ, with his owlish perception and photographic memory, certainly would have seen it, too. If Angel saw it, it’s not like he was going to say anything now. 

Where the fuck was Aneesa? Wasn’t she supposed to be heading this kind of shit off? You glanced over at the couches in the corner where your friend had previously been sitting with GIlly, and was now nowhere to be seen. Fuckin’ typical. 

“Aight, no más flores." No more flowers. “What were you thinking, then?” 

That was you, ever the professional. 

Andres showed you his phone, a rendering of an old-style beastly cat, like a panther from an old folktale, pulled up in his image search. 

“Something for a warrior,” he puffed his chest slightly. “I was thinking here,” he shrugged out of one side of his new kutte, tugging the button-up to expose one side of his chest. 

“You got it.” 

You set to work, cleaning the area to be inked and getting your tools ready. The rest of the group drifted as the project progressed, clearly not feeling the need to stand there for the entire duration of a tattoo. 

You were acutely aware that Angel hadn’t stepped as far away as the others, circumventing the periphery of yours and Andres’ space, not close, but not far. And he still had yet to even look in your direction. Or acknowledge your existence. 

You tried your best to ignore the icy shard of Angel’s indifference that was currently wedging its way between your ribs and lodging itself firmly once more into your heart. At this point, you guessed it would never heal. 

“Sooooo,” Andres lolled his head to the side of his chair to face you, slinging back the beer from the bottle dangling in his free hand. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You were around a little bit when I was prospecting.” 

You opted not to respond, aware that Angel was likely listening, and you would need to choose any words carefully. Andres had no such reservation, clearly uncaring about who might be listening. He pressed on, each word more infuriating than the last. 

“You were Angel’s little sidepiece for a while, right?”   

You tried to keep your despairing sigh to a quiet little nothing. 

“Sure.” You offered lamely. “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really work better when I’m not talking.” 

“S’alright, jaina. I can talk enough for the both of us.” 

You hmm’d nonchalantly at that, lip imperceptibly curling over your teeth in distaste at the moniker. You chose instead to focus on the piece. You wouldn’t give a shitty tattoo, even if this guy was a douchebag. And the pleasant buzz of the tattoo gun. Maybe you were etching the lines a little sharper than strictly necessary. If he noticed, Andres gave no indication, continuing on with his diatribe: 

“So, what happened? I mean, Angel knocked that other chick up? Ouch, right?” 

You were now seeing red, the edges of your vision blurring slightly with angry, pinpricking tears. Thank fuck you were just about done with this. 

“But that’s the life right? I mean, we’re not exactly known for being steady with just one chick. You know how it goes ...” He eyed you up and down again, lingering a little too long on your legs before finishing his thought with a smirk “... Clearly.” 

You hated his use of “we,” like he was in any way, shape, or form worthy to be in the class of man EZ, Coco, Bishop, or, hell, even Angel, was. None of them would talk to you like this. No matter what Angel had done. 

You shut off the gun, pushing back from the space with Andres, spinning in your chair, and grabbing the clean wipes for Andres’ fresh ink. As you dabbed the area and made to bandage it, the oblivious biker grabbed your wrist. None of the teasing fun or gentleness in the same gesture that Angel had imparted when you had first met. No, Andres’ grip hurt. It was all bruising possession and entitlement. 

“I think we would have fun, you and I.” He leaned forward and far too into your space, the stale stink of warm beer heavy on his breath. 

You wrenched your grip from his, standing quickly and offering him a tight smile, cheeks flaming with your anger and embarrassment. How dare he speak so trivially of your relationship with Angel. How dare he think you were so easily won with his kutte and shitty attitude. 

“Uhm,” you tugged your fingers agitatedly through the ends of your hair, chewing your lip. “You’re all set, Andres. Aftercare sheet is on the table next to you. It’s on the house. Happy patch party!” Your voice sounded so shrill and fake in your own head, but you just didn’t have it in you to care at the moment. 

With that, you quickly whirled on your heel, in a distressed flurry past the Angel-shaped blur who had been watching the entire encounter, and out of the clubhouse door into the cooler late-night air. 

Getting heavy to breathe in this room together. It’s so awkward, we can’t seem to do it better. Can’t we just fake a smile and put our shit to the side? 

---

Angel had waited a whopping 18 hours to text you after your clandestine tattooed meet-cute. 

You were in the middle of exchanging consultation e-mails with a prospective client when your phone had buzzed. 

“Vince?” The text read. 

You bit back a smirk before responding,

“Vince? No Vince here. This is Frida’s phone.”

You watched as the little bubbles appeared in the corner, disappeared for a second, and then reappeared. You were grateful for the little manifestation of Angel’s hesitance. It made him seem more human. And it made you appreciative that he was clearly trying to choose his words with you, when words had seemed to come so easily to him when you had met. 

“My bad. Oh, beautiful, talented Frida.” 

You couldn’t hold back the smile on your features now. Grateful it was still you and only you in the shop so that no one could see your “obviously-texting-a-cute-guy” face. 

“It’s nice to hear from you, Angel. Good thing you didn’t throw away the card.” 

“That card was clearly a gift, querida. Much like the pretty flowers on my arm.” He snapped you a picture of his tattoo, the healing process underway. 

“Looks great!” You sent, cringing at your lack of ability to effectively flirt via text. It was something that your friends had teased you relentlessly about back in the Town -- your notorious lack of game. No! New home, new you! Be cute. Be cute. 

“So, if I’ve given you all the gifts, what do I get?” You sent with a “thinking” emoji. 

Angel at least had the decency to wait a minute or two before replying, either thinking about his response or keeping you in suspense… you weren’t sure. But you were grateful for the little opportunity to catch your breath. How did he make you so speechless when he wasn’t even in the room with you? Some things just weren’t fair. 

“Niña, I paid you for this ink. What more could you possibly want from me?” 

Tricky Angel. Zorro. Like a little fox, he had effectively maneuvered the conversation back to you -- the ball was in your court. Would you tell him what you wanted?

You chewed the end of your fingernail thoughtfully before responding. 

“You texted me, boy. Are you sure it isn’t you who wants something?”

If only your friends could see you now. That was damn smooth. 

“Boy?” 

You snorted to yourself. Trust a guy like Angel to get hung up on something small like that. The bubbles reappeared. 

“I was thinking about this pretty girl I met the other day. Hell of an artist. But a shit poet. Thought I would see if she was free sometime?” 

Angel was merciful. You could kiss him. Had he seriously just taken all the weight out of this conversation? Your heart felt a million pounds lighter in your chest, knowing he was asking you. The wave of relief that he wanted to see you again crashed through you, replaced in the tide with the backdraft of a feeling of mischievousness. You wouldn’t let him off so easily.

So you waited before responding. Let him sweat a little, right?

Only… you weren’t sure Angel was sweating as much as you were, fingers itching with the desire to text him back and accept immediately. 

When what had felt like an eternity (but in reality had only been about seven minutes) had passed, you picked up your phone, opening the conversation with Angel. 

“She’s free next Thursday … After your bike week, el rey de los bandoleros.” 

You put your phone back down on the counter, grinning like an idiot, feeling like you had just swallowed a bunch of bubbles. You entertained the notion that if your combat boots weren’t keeping your feet weighted to the floor, you would have floated away. 

Your phone dinged once more.

“See you then, mi reina.” 

Time passes slowly the more you want it to go quickly. And whenever you have a deadline you’re dreading, it gallops ahead. Time really is that bitch, and she does not give a fuck about your feelings. 

The following Thursday felt like it took a year to arrive. But it found you closing up the shop, your stomach fluttering with butterflies and pop rocks, adorned in your favorite pair of jeans and boots, a clean, flattering tank top that showed off your own ink. You hoped it was fine for whatever Angel had in mind. 

Honestly, he hadn’t said anything about your date. A few flirtatious texts here and there? Obviously. You sent him photos of the pieces you had done for new clients. He sent you ridiculous selfies and a couple of group pics of him and his friends at the biker event. One guy who kept popping up in the photos, Angel had told you, was his “little” brother. But there was nothing “little” about that dude. 

You loved seeing all of Angel’s goofy, smiling faces. Treasuring the photos in your small moments of quiet downtime. 

The rumbling of a bike engine greeted your ears, like the seductive purr of a large cat. You glanced up, a full Cheshire grin alighting your features at the sight of Angel’s gorgeous, deep forest green bike, and the man of the hour looking very at home on the seat. 

He rolled to a stop in front of you, unclipping his helmet and dismounting with his winning trademark smirk, ambling over to greet you. 

“Frida,” he scooped you into a hug, his tall frame causing you to lift, your toes now barely brushing the ground as he brought you to his height. He pressed a soft kiss to your check, setting you down gently and letting you get your bearings, chuckling pleasantly at the obvious, dizzying effect his greeting had had on you.

“Angelito,” you returned. “Back in one piece?”

“Hail to the king, baby,” he countered. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, scuffing the toe of your boot into the gravel of the lot. “So, where are you taking me, o benevolent one?”

“Just gonna hafta find out.” He handed his helmet to you, helping you clip and tighten it beneath your chin. “Ever ridden before?”

“Uhm, well, sure” you replied too assuredly, quickly realizing your slip. “I mean, no. Not like that. I mean, yes, like that. But not on one of these.” Fuck. Could you be more embarrassing? 

Angel released a full-bellied laugh at your response, his head tossing back a little. 

“You’ll have to tell me more about alla that later, cielo.” You put your head in your palm willing the embarrassment to go away. Angel quickly pried your hands away, cupping your cheeks with his own warm hands, long fingers brushing your cheekbones reverently. “In the meantime, just hang on, okay?” 

You nodded, still cursing your idiot-brain that had partnered with the dirtiest corners of your mind to take over your mouth. Shut the fuck up, dumb-dumb. 

You clung to Angel as he drove, your hands roaming his firm torso probably a little too-familiarly. You enjoyed the way the wind whipped around you, tugging at yours and Angel’s clothes as you made your way up the canyon overlooking the desert that was Santo Padre. 

Angel parked his bike on the ridge overlooking the town, the sun beginning its descent in the desert sky in swirling hues of pastels and cotton candy pink-purple-blue overtaking the orange hue. 

You had never been up here before, and you told Angel as much. He looked pleased at that, pleased that he was the one to show you the best view of the Santo Padre sunset. 

Angel busied himself unpacking the bags on the side of his bike while you enjoyed the scenery. Pulling out a couple of wrapped sandwiches and bottles of water, he handed yours to you, coming to stand next to you on the ridge. 

"Thanks," you acknowledged, looking at the offerings. "What, no beer?"

Angel chuckled a little at that.

"I ain't tryna liquor you up, niña. Besides, you want warm beer that's been rattling around on my bike all afternoon?"

You crinkled your nose a little at that. "No," you decided. "Never mind. Besides, I'm more of a whiskey girl."

Angel glanced at you, sipping on his own water idly.

"Really?"

"Really," you confirmed. "Don't tell me you're one of those guys who thinks it's impressive when a girl drinks whiskey because it's such a 'man thing.' "

Angel held up one hand, defensively. 

"Nunca. Just took you for more of a… dunno? Maybe a rum kinda girl?"

"Don't think so. For now, though? Water and sandwiches do me just fine. Whiskey can come later." You took a bite of the now-unwrapped sandwich. "This is good," you confirmed around a slightly-full mouth. "Did you make this?"

"Of course. Pop owns the butcher shop down the street from your parlour. Sliced the meat myself, an' all," he said, a little proudly now that he knew you approved of his sandwich-making skills.

"Bueno," you giggled. "Thank you for this, Angel. Really. This is one of the nicest nights I've had since moving here." You shuffled a little closer to where he was standing, looking in his eyes as you thanked him.

"Bah," he waved away your compliments, "it ain't alla that. This can't be the most exciting thing you've done since getting here."

"Maybe it is," you pressed. "I dunno. Maybe I'm too boring for the king of the bikers?"

"I doubt that very seriously, querida," he turned his body so he was facing you now, sandwich long gone, fiddling with the water bottle in his hands. "You play your cards right, I'll introduce you to the rest of the club. Then things'll get really exciting."

You blinked. One date and he already was thinking about introducing you to his friends? Your inner shy romantic (okay, not so "inner," right? You're pretty clear about who you are) was doing little somersaults in your chest. 

You must've been silent a beat too long because Angel was quick to supplement, "Only if you want."

"I'd like that," you confirmed, nodding and smiling gently. 

"So, are you gonna tell me what brings an East Bay girl here?" 

You raised a brow. You didn't remember telling him where you moved from. He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck nervously, realizing you'd caught his slip. 

"I maaaay have scrolled your Instagram?"

You finished your sandwich, thinking about how much you wanted to tell him.

"Just time for a change of scenery. Olí is an old friend, and he offered me a job. I think he wants to travel more." You shrugged, "It just felt like it was time. Plus, I dunno… I like it here. Much quieter."

Angel nodded at that, not having the heart to tell you that his club was not at all quiet and was the source of the disruption in the otherwise-quaint town. 

You kept talking, telling him about the friends you'd left behind, your old shop, weekends spent in the park surrounding Lake Merritt, and going to Raiders games. Angel took in your features as you spoke, the golden light of the sunset making you glow like something out of a dream he'd had once. Your eyes sparkled as you talked about things you loved, the books and art that inspired your poetry. How you'd gone to art school. You were something.

"-- Sorry, I'm rambling," you breathed in a rush, flush with the amount of talking you'd been doing in a record amount of time. "What? Do I have something in my teeth?"

Angel realized he'd been staring as long as you'd been talking.

"No, querida. Nothing in your teeth." He gave you a dazzlingly white smile.

"Oh thank God," you returned his smile with a small one of your own, shying a little under his gaze, and wondering how long he had been looking at you like that as you'd talked.

He leaned over you now, his height giving him the definite advantage as he'd -- not unwelcomely-- invaded your space. He brought one hand up to cup your chin, his dark eyes revealing flecks of sparkling gold in the pastel wash of the sunset as his gaze once again met yours.

You saw his quick glance down at your lips, you unconsciously giving a small nod before his warm lips met yours.

Oh.

You had obviously been kissed before, been the recipient of past romantic attention. All of that paled in comparison, melting away as Angel's full lips maneuvered over yours, both of his large, calloused hands gently brushing your cheeks as he cupped your face, sliding one hand down to rest on the side of your neck.

You sighed lightly, one of your own hands twined into his shirt, the other resting on the side of his firm torso. 

Angel took the opportunity to slide his tongue past your lips, your own brushing against his as the kiss deepened.

 You were in no hurry for the kiss to end, enjoying the way everything about Angel was so warm, something that was surprisingly welcome, despite the ever-present desert heat of Santo Padre. You could get used to this. 

You had only known Angel a short time, realistically. Your one meeting spawning a series of flirtatious texts and snaps, and now this date that, while low-key, felt almost too perfect to be real. He made you feel safe, desired.

You could already feel him slipping beneath your skin to rest in a special place in your heart. And while you as a person were generally reticent to share that part of yourself with anyone, you had a feeling Angel could take up permanent residence there. If he wanted. 

You dropped from your tip-toes, effectively breaking the kiss.

Angel blinked, looking down at you and noting the pleasant glow on your skin, lips now slightly swollen from his kiss. He could get used to this.

The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant blur, trading quips and stories as the sun went down. Angel told you about his club, his brothers. About his pop and Ezekiel, and how at one time, he enjoyed being the bigger brother, teasing, pranking and lording over EZ until EZ had hit his growth spurt and could (and would) definitely hit back. 

As he drove you home, you snuggled a little bit against him, pressing yourself into his back and enjoying the way you swore you could feel his heart pounding through the kutte and over the rumble of the bike and the road.

He'd dropped you off with a parting kiss and the promise of another date.

Another date turned into several. Time you weren't at the shop was now spent with Angel, showing him what you were working on, inviting him over for dinners and to watch mindless television while he told you what he could about his day. 

The both of you were slowly peeling back the layers around your respectively guarded hearts, revealing more of yourselves only to be met with pure acceptance by the other. Even blindados had to take off their armour at some point. 

You cherished your time with Angel, and he quickly found himself stumbling, head over his own biker-booted heels for you.

After a few months had passed, he had brought you to meet the club. You had manifested nothing but general acceptance of his lifestyle and were eager to meet the people Angel had so obviously cared for. Who had helped shape him into the brash but conscientious person he was with you. 

And one sunny afternoon had found you bringing lunch you had made for the entire club over to the scrapyard, Angel agreeing with your plan. You never were one to show up empty-handed. 

As you walked across the yard, past the gate, and into the clubhouse, your eyes adjusting to the dim interior from the blinding sun outdoors, Angel bounded over to greet you. Taking the bag full of homemade goodies from your arms, he pressed quick kisses to your cheeks, and one to your forehead. 

He turned, met with the pleasantly-surprised stares of his brothers. He announced your name to the room before turning to you, pointing at each man and supplying a name. You nodded, smiling and offering a warm wave to each. 

The man you knew to be EZ from all of Angel's initial texts and photos quickly strode over to you, shaking your hand in his impressively firm grip before bending down to press a quick kiss to your cheek with a,

"Bienvenido, hermanita. Angel's told me a lot about you. Won't shut up, really," giving you a sly wink as Angel swatted EZ's arm in annoyance at his brother's revelation.

Boys.

The smaller man with the sharp eyes and full curls you knew to be Coco made his way over to where you were now seated as Angel went to get you both drinks, the other men digging into your offerings as you made yourself comfortable.

He sat next to you, tossing you a, "You mind?" Lighting his cigarette after you’d shaken your head.

He studied you through his own plumes of smoke before leaning across the table and speaking to you, lowly and with an almost conspiratorial rasp to his voice,

"You did that cover-up for Angel?" He asked on a smooth exhale.

"Mhmm," you nodded. "He gave me free reign. I was nervous he'd hate it."

Coco seemed to chew over your words for a dragging moment. You shifted in your seat. He was definitely sizing you up.

"Bold move, pequeña, giving the secretario of a biker club a sleeve of flowers." 

"I suppose it was," you sighed, more than a little uncertain now. "But it felt meaningful, right, I guess. I just sort of… started drawing. I… think it worked out, though?" You trailed off.

Coco nodded. "It's a fuckin' good piece, mami. Angel told me what you'd said about memories making you who you are." He snorted lightly through his nose. "It's funny. We've never even met before, and you're already sounding like me." 

A small smile played across his lips, returning it with one of your own.

"I'm glad you approve," you nodded. "Angel's opinion obviously matters, and don't tell him I told you this, but it means alot coming from one of his family." 

And that's what they were. His family. You could see it. The obvious camaraderie and care underlying each of their actions with the other. You admired the system of support, cushioned by good humor, despite being flung regularly into harsh reality. It was clear -- they were there for one another.

Coco's voice broke your train of thought,

"Maybe you got space for me in your books one-a these days?"

Your small smile was a full-blown, sunny grin now.

"Of course. Anytime you want to drop by, you're more than welcome." 

"Gracias, chica." Coco leaned across the table and patted your shoulder before getting up and taking his leave.

And so it went. The boys would filter through your shop. Olí teasing you about his offense that all of his most lucrative, inked clients were now going to you. 

You enjoyed the time working on pieces for them afforded you -- offering you a glimpse into their inner workings, what they felt was important enough to take up permanent residence along their skin. Making idle chit-chat with you while you worked. And always, always sharing embarrassing little anecdotes about Angel. 

The months passed with you and Angel, finding comfort in your unpredictable, but welcome, respective routines. 

One night in particular found Angel wrapped up in your embrace, the physical embodiment of your gradual and growing trust in one another.

He had arrived home more than a little rattled, his eyes wildly darting to the corners of the room before settling in you, exhaling a shaky breath before striding the length of the room and crushing you to him, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. 

You understood he probably couldn't tell you what had happened, but you asked anyway, needing him to know you would hear him.

"Angelito, everything okay?" 

He shook his head softly in the negative, but didn't elaborate. 

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay. We don't have to talk about it," you wound your arms up and around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "But it's going to be okay. I've got you. I won't let go."

He gripped your wrists, pulling your hands from his neck and sliding your arms down, bringing them to rest around his waist. Once he had positioned you where he wanted, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, eyes heavy and dark with the weight of his stormy thoughts. 

He nodded at what you had said before bringing his lips back to yours. 

You brought one hand up to meet his, where it rested along your cheek. You twined your fingers through, joining your hands while breaking the kiss. You lead him through the apartment, bringing him to the bedroom. You had music softly playing from your speaker in the corner, candles lit to bathe the room in ambient glow and a warm, honey smell, all in anticipation of Angel's eventual arrival home.

You silently gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed, where you took your seat next to him. 

You tugged the leather kutte from his shoulders, folding it reverently and placing it on the chair near the bed. He exhaled in relief, shoulders sagging once the leather manifestation of his obligation to a darker world had been removed. The weight of the world a little less on the mantle of his shoulders. 

You turned your attention to his feet next, unlacing and tugging off his boots. Then, his belt. 

Once he was just in his jeans and his t-shirt, you resumed your seat at his side, bringing him back into your embrace and carding your hands through his hair, as his head rested on your shoulder. 

Angel spoke, voice cracking as he broke the seal of silence in the room. 

"It was… it was awful, Frida." He sighed. "I do everything they ask. It's my job … Fuck. Sometimes I wonder how much more my heart can take. But then, I get to come home to you." 

His breath was shuddering now.

And while you didn't always know what to say -- it was a rare sight to see Angel so rattled. But you were a caregiver by nature, ready to give him the pieces of yourself that would make him feel whole.

You guided him down so that he could recline, you came to rest at his side, winding your arms around his torso, your face turned into his neck, cuddling him as he came down from the mania of his emotional high.

The moments passed, Angel's breathing leveling again as you stroked his hair in time to the soft music.

He turned his head to look at you, admiring the flutter of your lashes as you blinked at him, your gaze warm and adoring, full of twinkling fairy light and starshine. 

"Te amo, querida," Angel breathed. This was not the first time he had said it to you during your months together. But each time felt as momentous as the first, each declaration of love felt like the slip of something sweet, and you were determined to store it in your heart and mind forever.

"I love you too, Angel. More than anything," you murmured. "I love your smile, your sense of humor, your strength." You pressed kisses to his face and neck with each admission. "Mostly, I love your strength. And that you trust me enough to tell me when you don't always feel it."

He sucked in a shuddering breath before whispering to you,

"I love your mind. How creative you are. How you see everything so beautiful, just like you," he hmm’d. "Mostly I love your trust. And that you choose to give it to me." 

You kissed him again, leaning over him with your entire body, pressing your palms gently into his shoulders. 

As your kiss deepened, you each began to tug at the other. His hands carded through your hair, tugging gently, but firmly. You lifted his shirt from his torso, the kiss breaking so you could peel it away.

You divested one another of each layer, baring yourselves to the other, body and soul. Again, this wasn't the first time you had done this. But this felt momentous nonetheless. 

Angel skimmed his hands over your form, running his hands softly down and over your breasts, loving your soft sigh at his touch. 

You leaned over him once more, reluctantly removing his hands from you, and placing them gently down at his sides. 

"Your heart is mine, mine to protect," You hummed softly, invading his senses and placing kisses down Angel's neck and to his chest, trailing your lips lovingly over Angel's heart, and pressing one last deliberate kiss there. "And I take my job very seriously." 

As you kissed him, you lightly trailed your fingers down his torso, coming to rest at his hip.

Your declaration was met with silence; you glanced up at Angel through your lashes only to find him already looking down through heavy-lidded eyes at you, his now swirling with some unnamed, weighted emotion.

You trailed your hand across his hip, not breaking eye contact as you took his hardening length into your hand. He inhaled sharply at the sensation of your grip, but refused to look away as you began to pump him slowly, still pressing kisses to his hips, torso and thighs. 

"Please, querida," Angel gasped.

"Please, what?" You murmured back, your voice taking a throaty register you reserved strictly for private moments with your beloved.

"Please… use your pretty mouth?" 

You nodded. 

"Relájate, baby, I've got you," you assured. Sweeping your hair back, the action washing Angel with the sweeping comfort of your scent as you made your way lower down his body. 

Angel slumped back against the bedspread, glittering galaxy eyes still trained on you as you lavished him with attention. 

You took the opportunity to flatten your tongue, licking a broad stripe up the length of him, one hand braced against his firm thigh, the other holding him gently at the base of his cock as you worked.

You swirled your tongue around the tip of him, delighted at his throaty moans, feeling the effect they had on you, making you feel like you were burning from the inside, feeling the slickness from your own center as your thighs rubbed together. 

Taking Angel wholly into your mouth now, you bobbed over him, relishing in the heavy feel of him in your mouth and the throaty groans you received from Angel in response. 

Before you could spend too long lavishing him with attention, Angel tugged on your hair at the base of your neck. Following his grip, you lifted your head and released him from, watching (a little greedily) as his thick length bobbed against him when you relinquished him from the confines of your mouth. 

He guided you up his body, hand still knotted in your hair, pushing his mouth onto yours, uncaring of the saliva on your lips and chin, and the taste of himself on your tongue. 

You straddled his hips, surging the rest of the way up his body and effectively deepening the kiss. The hand that was once in your hair now made its way to loosely grip at your throat, the other skimming his way down your breasts, across your ribs and toward your center.

As his fingers traced through your folds, you involuntarily rolled your hips into his hand, alight at his touch, and desperately seeking more. 

Angel touching you was like the shock of a live wire. Every time felt just as electric as the last, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as his fingers traced across your skin. 

He chuckled through your fused mouths, drawing back at your reaction and the wetness he found between your legs.

"Eager, amor?" Every word fell that fell from his lips sounded like a dangerous purr.

You nodded, drunk on the way Angel's hand gently squeezed your throat, while the other was teasingly making its way to-and-fro across your wet folds, occasionally making his way up to lightly circle and press his thumb over your clit, making your eyelids flutter. Your hips continued to rock against his hand, silently begging for more, his teasing touch making you more than a little crazy.

"Yeah?" Angel asked, his voice thick and syrupy, the timbre like dark clouds. "That shit turn you on? Sucking my cock?"

His words combined with his touch made another rush of heat flood through you. You were certain you would pass out, that your knees would buckle. And you were doing so well, holding your place up and over his hips while he played with you.

The hand on your throat gripped a little tighter, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

"Nuh-uh, baby," he shook you lightly, all mirth gone from his eyes, no more pleasant, smiling crinkles at the corners. His full lips pressed firmly together. "I asked you a question. You answer that shit"

He pressed two fingers teasingly against your entrance, refusing to insert them, despite the little roll of your hips.

"Y-yeaahh," you sighed, head tossed back, "I-I fucking love it -- love you, Angel."

He rewarded you by sliding a long finger into you, allowing you to ride his hand. The hand still around your throat guiding you forward, over him, allowing him to press hot, open-mouthed kisses, first to your lips, dirty and raw, like an exposed nerve in his unabashed want for you. 

He relinquished his hold on your neck, allowing him to trail his lips and his tongue there, kissing you softly behind your ear, down and around your neck to your collarbones, all while his fingers continued their earnest treatment inside of you, his thumb now pressing to your clit, your warming crescendo building.

Using his height and the fact that you were straddling him, Angel encouraged you to lean forward, allowing him to capture one of your breasts in his grip, his mouth following. His warm tongue swirled around your nipple before he sucked the bud into his mouth, grazing his teeth ever so gently over your sensitive flesh.

Angel's attention was rewarded with your gasping sighs and breathy moans. How anyone could make you feel this good was beyond you. Angel had an uncanny ability to elicit responses and feelings like no other person before him.

You felt the thrumming hum and warm, sticky wave of your orgasm building as Angel worked his fingers inside of you, stroking that particular spot from within that he knew would be your undoing.

"O-oh," you whined, keening noises caught in your throat. "Please, baby, I n-need you. Need you inside." 

The room was sweltering. Or was it just you? Angel withdrew his fingers smoothly, not sparing you the chance to be disappointed at the loss of feeling as he smoothly flipped the two of you, guiding you down to the mattress and hovering over your trembling form. 

"Yeah?" Angel asked. "You ready for that, querida?"

You gazed up at him through your lashes, longingly. He would give everything, anything, that he had in the world if you only looked at him like that forever, gaze full of warmth, heat, and unfiltered, starry adoration. 

"Mmm," you nodded, "Please? Angel?"

He was only a man, after all. Who was he to refuse when you asked so prettily for him?

He gently turned you over so that your back was to him, running his hands down the slope of your back and guiding you to your knees, propping your hips up.

Positioning himself behind you, Angel resumed his grip on your throat, using it to guide your head around so that he could kiss you again while he guided himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss at the sensation, never tired of feeling every ridge of his thick cock sliding into you like he belonged there.

Angel groaned, breaking the kiss and shaking his head, chuckling darkly, his eyes flashing as he swore, 

"Never fuckin' get tired of that shit," he began to move his hips, using his other hand that was gripping your hip to guide you along his lengthy, meeting his thrusts. "Never tired of your pussy … You're so … good."

Angel's words coupled with his thrusts were driving you crazy, causing you to eagerly meet him with the momentum of your own hips, the heat in the room spliced with the distinctive noise of his skin meeting yours. 

Angel, leaning over your back, crowded your every sense, the taste of him, of his kisses still lingering on your tongue. Your ears met with the harmony of your two bodies and the filthy words and sounds coming from Angel's mouth. The sight of him was as intoxicating as ever, as you looked over your shoulder at him, the shadows of the room playing across his tawny skin, glimmering in the low light with the sheen of sweat you knew was also present on yours.

“Say my name,” Angel pants into the slick skin on your back, kissing a line down your spine, his body covering yours possessively.

You were too caught up in everything Angel, failing to respond quickly enough for his liking as you gasped at every thrust.

A crack of heat flashed across your ass, Angel swatting you there once. You should be annoyed, but you couldn't lie -- you fucking loved it when he was like this. Only for you. 

"A-angel," you sighed, the crescendo of your orgasm climbing, threatening to burst any second, you tightening around Angel.

"Bueno," he purred. "You close? Yeah, you fucking are," Angel snarled, taking in the way you threw your hips back desperately to meet him, squirming one hand beneath you to touch yourself. "You can have it, baby, I'll make it good. You just gotta ask pretty for me." 

You deepened the arch in your back, flexing your hips back toward Angel, and gripping the bedspread before you in your fingers, face pressed flush with the sheets, your other hand still pressed to your clit.

Angel tilted your head, leaning over further and gripping your jaw, squeezing to pucker your cheeks. He kissed you, sucking your lower lip between his. He kissed you gently, a deceptive contrast to the hand gripping your face, his hips snapping into yours at a now-brutish pace. He pecked another light kiss to your lips, followed by another, gently biting your lip and dragging it lightly as he drew his face from yours.

He released your lips as you whispered another plea into his mouth.

"Come on then, baby." 

Your orgasm washed over you, pinpricks of striking matches splintering across your skin, followed by a euphoric wave of white-heat, blissfully soothing every nerve it had just lit.

Angel followed, emptying himself into you with a few final thrusts, groaning at the way you tightened just so around him. 

He withdrew gently, collapsing next to you as you both caught your breath. 

Your lashes fanned your cheeks as you blinked hazily at the form of your love through the soft glow of the room.

"I do love you, Angel," you told him, leaning across the sheets to rub your nose back and forth against his, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, grazing your soft fingers against the lines of his forehead, easing them away into an expression of soft serenity. "Always."

---

Now, you walked out of the clubhouse, around to the side of the porch, a quiet corner away from the noise. Willing yourself to calm down as small, hot tears trickled their way, uninvited, down your cheeks. 

Your thoughts were moving a million miles a second, the battle of luck you were waging with the universe saw you quickly losing. 

The year you spent with Angel replaying itself in your mind. Every word, every touch, that goddamn tattoo. Remembrance, my ass. How you would hold him when he came home too high-strung and strung-out emotionally for words. How you would save the best leftovers for him when you knew he had been away and would be craving the Chinese food from the place down the block when he got back. How he felt inside of you on the coldest nights and in the most tender mornings. How he would whisper enchanting endearments into the shell of your ear as he rolled his hips into yours, your mind and body completely his. How you would wear his shirts and overly-large socks around his apartment, leaving doodles and scribbled poems on sticky notes for him to find in his moments alone. How he kissed you warmly, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like syrupy possession that you never wanted to end. 

How it did end. How he had thrown out your world, crumpled it into a crushed paper ball and tossing it away with the carelessness of a child. Ending things with seemingly no spare thought for your feelings. How EZ had let slip when he saw you in town that Angel was expecting a kid, the timing of everything suddenly making a little more sense. How it made you feel, now that you knew you were wholly his, but he was never entirely yours. How you had kept to yourself in the months that followed, the cracks in your heart widening until you felt like you would drown in them. 

The pulse of your feelings for him, always strong; they warm you. But it was still you they all left behind. 

Your thoughts were still swirling when, off to the side, you heard the porch door open and close again, and you prayed that whomever was coming outside was going to have a smoke out front, or that they were on their way out. That they wouldn’t find you. 

But of course, these things never worked out how you wanted them. You cursed any god you could think of for just how un-fucking-lucky you were sometimes. 

Because, really, who other than Angel was making his way around the porch to you? Taking in your hunched form as you leaned over the railing, looking anywhere but at him. 

Of fucking course.

You kept your eyes down, focused in your clasped hands as you leaned over the railing, refusing to look at him. 

And now? Now he was looking at you, and it's the one time you wished he wouldn't. 

One thing you wouldn't do, now that he was here, was break the silence first. He didn't want to hear what you'd had to say, so why would you grace him with your thoughts now? Petty? Sure. But you weren't the one in there with your hands on some ass while a so-called friend harassed your ex. 

A few uncomfortable beats dragged on before Angel broke the silence, shattering it like glass with a verbal hammer.

"What'd he say to you?"

You remained silent.

"What the fuck did he say, Frida?" His voice angry now, demanding. The same tone he used to break your heart. 

"It ain't working. Not my fuckin’ fault you can't see it."

You rolled your eyes, another shard of icy glass painfully wedging into your heart at his use of the name. Still refusing to look in his direction when you replied, softly but sharply, 

"You know exactly what he said. What I'm trying to figure out is why, exactly, you care."

"I care, Frida," was all he offered.

You snorted in response. Undignified, sure. But couldn't he see this was killing you? Where was his mercy?

"I do," he insisted, the thud of his boots across the wood of the porch indicating that he was crossing to you, coming to stand a ways behind you.

"I'm not going to do this with you. He said some shit. It's over. We move on. What more could you have to say about that?"  

Keep it simple, keep yourself safe. You gave him nothing to say back. And then… 

"And if I told you I wanted you? I wanted you back?"

You whipped your head around to -- finally -- meet Angel's eyes, which you did for a fleeting moment before zeroing in once more on your shoes, staring resolutely at the ground. You were not going to let him see you cry again, godfuckingdamnit.

The fleeting glimpse of his face, of his eyes meeting yours once more after all this time, was enough. He looked more tired up close than he had before. Still unfair in his striking beauty, his midnight eyes still enough to pull you in, drown you in their oceanic depths. You hated it. Hated that he still had that power over you. But try as you might, you couldn't hate him. 

Your silence was killing Angel with the precision of a thousand miniscule cuts. Each deeper than the last. Until he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached through the space between, for where your hand rested on the railing. You saw the gesture coming, and whipped your hand away at the last moment, cradling it to your chest like he had burned you. You faced him fully now.

You chuckled softly, wryly, and devoid of any humor before you muttered, "You don't want me, baby. Please don't lie."

“And how do you know that’s a lie?” Angel mumbled thickly, working his tongue around the words, through his own emotion. 

You scuffed your toe into the hewn wood of the deck, shrugging before you responded, simply, 

“If I was what you wanted, you wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere. And you certainly wouldn't have found someone else. You wouldn’t have said what you said, ended it like you did, with everything on just your terms.” You sighed deeply, with the rattle of tears lodged into your chest before you spoke again, “You made up your mind and never even let me say a word. If you wanted anything to do with me, you could have at least given me a word.” 

Angel blinked, hard. The familiar pressure of real tears building behind his eyes. You were right of course. And fuck, weren't you always? You'd always told him like it was, harsh truths that only you could cushion in your gentle, empathetic way. 

"Please, querida, just let me explain what happened--" 

You held up your hand, shaking your head firmly, effectively silencing Angel.

"No!" Much softer now, "No. I- I'm sorry, Angel, I don't mean to be rude. But, no." Your voice small, but clear, as you'd finally gotten your opportunity to say something back to him. "I, uh, I don't want to hear any explanation, and you really don't have to?"

You lilted the last part like it was a question, but continued on. 

"You, um, you've had a lot of time to tell me something, anything, about what the fuck happened. And you didn't. You left me with nothing. Just confusion and hurt, and I've made peace with that. It's taken a while, but … I just… I don't need that from you. I gave you space, always respected your decisions and opinions, and now you won't do the same. You're still trying to take from me. Offering me an explanation now?" You scoffed. "That isn't for me, and don't fuckin’ act like it is -- it's for you. And I understand that, that's fine. I'm not angry at you for that, but I'm also not going to humor it." 

You exhaled shakily, you couldn't believe you'd said all of that, that you had made it through.

Angel was speechless. It made your heart feel even sicker -- all of this silence from him for so long, and he'd offered to explain himself and you'd (gracefully) told him to fuck off. Why had you done that??

It was about time you'd stood up for yourself, that's why. 

An explanation would be nice, sure. But where Angel's words, whispered affirmations and heady declarations of love, had once made your soul swell and sing… now, you knew, anything he'd had to say to you would only serve to do the opposite. 

And your heart, perpetually bruised by nature of you being a hopeless romantic, just couldn't take it. 

You hopped off the porch, spinning around to face Angel, finding his eyes on you still. Hadn't you wished for him to look at you? To really see you once more? 

"I'm out," you tossed a thumb over your shoulder toward where you'd parked your car. "Sorry, I don't mean to abandon the old post, but uh, I'm sure you guys have someone to fill in. I'll text Aneesa to grab my stuff, don't worry about it." 

Like he would, you thought.

You were mostly rambling to yourself, and not really to Angel, as you backed away, fleeing to your car. 

Angel watched you go, the resonant ache in his chest that had been ever-present since tossing your stuff out, amplified when Luisa had left him, and now sure to be permanent, buried in cement beneath the weight of his every decision, and every word.

You looked good, he thought. Your hair was longer than when he'd seen you last. Your little skirt flouncing as you strode away. Your skin still glowed, full lips still twisted into that wry smile of yours that he had seen from across the room. All of that was true, but your eyes were also tired, and your smile never quite reached them. 

The thought that he was responsible for dimming that sparkle made him feel sicker than he already had. The way you had brushed off Andres, despite his obnoxious insistence, and the things the cocky  new patch had said to you -- may as well add those to the ever-growing pile of things stained and tainted by Angel's guilt.

And he was left alone with that guilt as you left the lot. He turned back to the party. His cool facade slipping back into place. Not ready to face the wrath of EZ and Coco, surely waiting inside to proverbially beat his ass.

What would you say if I come over? And we stand face to face now that we're older?

---

Angel shuffled into his apartment, the late hour catching up to his weary form as he ambled over to his bedside, flicking on the lamp. 

Rubbing a large hand down his face, he sat on his bed in a huff of exhaustion. Your first encounter in months since he'd all-but tossed you from this very room was pricking him with a kind of nauseating nervous  energy. But all he wanted to feel in that moment was you, whether he deserved it or not.

He'd still had it, didn't he? Where was it?

He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand, fishing through its contents for what he hoped was still in there.

His fingers curled over his prize -- a slip of paper adorned with your handwriting. Scrawled lines of poetry on a neon pink Post-It note, curled with age and disuse, something you had left for him while he slept in one morning. 

“I was thinking of you,” you had said when he had asked you about it later, shrugging as if it were the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. 

Your love for him was clean in its simplicity and forwardness, whenever he could wade his way through the mire of your shy demeanor. You had stuck the Post-It to his nightstand while he was sleeping and you made your way to work. Your words were cramped and crunched into the small paper square, but ready to greet him with the shining light of a sunny new day. 

“I see your ardor through a pearlescent lense, and all is pleasantly pink and blurry with you-- Resplendent in your love's solar hope. You are so warm beneath the brush of my fingertips, and I burn. So in love with you, as I am and as I do."

Now, his eyes scanned the words for the millionth time since you had written them. He had committed it to memory by now, wishing he could hold you instead of this crumpled piece of paper, mocking him with its annoyingly bright pink hue.

But how could he? Angel was the kind of man who simmered in his emotion -- burning slowly, lowly, only to reach a pitch. He kept to himself until he couldn’t any longer -- and then it was all bleeding hearts on a very crisp sleeve. 

He had done what he had thought was right. Cutting you out with all of the brutality and finesse of a battleaxe, to focus on Luisa and his unborn son. He thought she was what he wanted. But now, he didn’t even have them. He had nothing to show for his decisions but the lonely, sick feeling ever-present in his chest. 

The you at the beginning of your relationship would have kissed each bruise in his soul, one by one, until they were better. Would have gifted him with the warmth of your time and attention until he was made whole again with the molten heat of your gracious heart. But the you now? 

Angel could never, would never, cover the tattoo on his arm, though he had thought about it. Blacking it out once and for all, so the piece of you he wore on his sleeve would finally match the  pitch, and emptiness inside. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was, as he’d said all that time ago, your gift to him. And he’d made you a promise that he wouldn’t. 

All he wanted was to look you in the eyes so he could remember that he loved you once.

And not that he had any reason to know it, but across town, you had made it home. Your phone shoved to the bottom of your bag, lighting up with texts from Aneesa, EZ, and Coco. But the only person on your mind was Angel. 

How much of what he had said was true? You weren't sure. But you were sure that you knew where you stood, still painfully alone and in love as ever, the cracks in your heart only fillable by the very person you had brushed off earlier.

And, while Angel readied himself for bed, snapping the lights off and attempting to cut through the oppressive darkness by staring at the ceiling with his own penetrative gaze, the empty side of the bed had never felt more cavernous, but more weighted. Mocking. 

If Angel was being honest with himself -- something he was never too keen on being in his more sobering moments -- he didn't love you once. He still loved you.

Thinking after all this time, I just wanna meet your eyes so I can remember why... Why I loved you once.

Tagging:

@themarcusmoreno @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @steeeeeeeviebb @qveenbvtch @mxsamwilson @ifimayhaveaword @huliabitch @pettyprocrastination @phoenixhalliwell @flightlessangelwings @cinewhore @velvetmel0n @moonlight-prose @rebeccasficrecs @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @aerolanya @djvrins @jenrebloggingfics @ciriswife @justanotherblonde23 @superhoeva @witching-hour​ @luckyharley1903​

[songtoyou]

No Need to Rush

Paring: Angel Reyes x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Some swearing. Smut (fingering).

Word Count: 1,590

Story Summary: Angel is feeling down, so you stop by his apartment to make him feel good. However, he is the one who ends up making you feel good.

A/N: I have fallen in love with Angel Reyes. Now, I have not seen Mayans MC, but it is on my list of shows to watch. I hope my characterization of Angel is somewhat accurate. He comes off as a character with lots of layers, which I like.

Please do not post any of my fics to other sites without my permission. Gif is my creation.

You were bored. Hanging around the Mayan’s Clubhouse alone was not how you pictured your Saturday. Your favorite Mayan had yet to show up. Angel Reyes said he would see you tonight, yet he was nowhere to be seen. You asked Angel’s younger brother, Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes, if he had heard from his older brother.

“I saw him earlier. Angel said he would be here,” EZ answered, standing next to Gilly. He stepped closer to you and pulled you to the side. Leaning closer, EZ went on to explain, “The last run Bishop sent Angel to do…well, it didn’t quite go according to plan. Bishop kind of chewed Angel out for it.”

Nodding your head, you appreciated EZ telling you this information, knowing he could get in trouble doing so.

“I’m going to go check on him,” you told EZ and gave him a quick hug goodbye.

“See ya, querida,” he said and went over to Gilly and Coco, who handed him a beer. EZ hoped his brother was doing alright. If anything, he knew you would be able to cheer Angel up.

Thankfully, it didn’t take you too long to drive to Angel’s apartment. The lights were still on, and his motorcycle was still in its parking spot. He was home. You parked next to his bike and got out of the car. In a few steps, you were knocking on Angel’s apartment door. You could hear the rustling of footsteps behind the door and some swearing.

“EZ, I said don’t….” Angel began but stopped once he saw you. His stance became more relaxed; his facial features softened.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked, stepping aside to let you in the apartment. “I thought you’d be at the Clubhouse.”

Angel looked you up and down. He had to suppress a groan at what you were wearing; a short black dress that showed off your curves and thigh-high black boots. While your style was more tamed than the other girls at the Clubhouse, you still managed to stir something inside Angel. Particularly in his nether region.

“Funny, I thought you’d be there as well. I talked to EZ. He shared a little bit of how you are doing,” you responded, taking off your jacket and leaving on the back of a chair.

Signing, Angel retreated to the kitchen; he got out two beers. As he popped the bottle tops, Angel said, “Of course EZ did. He shouldn’t be telling you things about the Club.”

You took the beer Angel offered and sat down on the couch. You hated the taste of beer but took a sip anyways. “EZ just shared that you have been feeling down lately. So, I came here to cheer you up,” you laughed and turned to look at Angel. You felt yourself biting your lip as you looked Angel up and down. He was dressed in dark jeans and a black tank top that showed off his muscular arms and tattoos. You could have sworn the man was sculpted by the Gods. He was a real-life Adonis.

He was standing by the kitchen counter, looking down at his boots with a sad look on his face. It broke your heart. While Angel may look tough on the outside, he was sensitive and could be a real softy at times. When you first began going to the Clubhouse, it did not take long for the two of your to become friends. You both liked to tease one another and even hung out regularly. It always remained friendly between you and Angel, which was hard because you could not deny your growing attraction to the biker.

You motioned for Angel to sit beside you on the couch. He did so without hesitation. The television was on some sports channel as you and Angel sat next to each other in silence and sipped your beers. Comfortable silence. You rested your head on Angel’s shoulder and took his free hand in yours. It was not an uncommon gesture from you. The two of you could be very affectionate with one another; light touches here and there, a few kisses too. So much so that it often confused the guys at the Club about your relationship status. The guys would tease Angel about not making a move on you. But he would merely reply with, “It’s not like that. Y/N is…special.” This only made the guys laugh more or roll their eyes at Angel’s obliviousness.

Angel may be many things, but when it came to you, oblivious he was not. He was simply taking his time getting to know you. Angel didn’t want it to be a one-and-done thing. Especially as he got to know you more. The more Angle got to know you, the more he liked you and vice versa.

You felt Angel’s free hand slowly slide up your thigh. He kept checking for your reaction to see if you would stop him or pull away. You did neither. In fact, you hiked up the short dress you were wearing even more to allow him more access. When he lightly graced a finger alongside the front of your underwear, he looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked cautiously. Angel knew that one wrong move and his friendship with you could be over.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

Putting the beers to the side, you straddle Angel’s lap as he rested his large hands on your ass. You leaned in to kiss him on the lips, which he quickly reciprocated. The kiss started out slow, as if you both were testing the waters. You could feel the bulge in Angel’s pants begin to harden, and you inadvertently began to grind against him.

When Angel pushed you back lightly to look at you, at first, you thought he was going to say that this was a bad idea. Instead, Angel told you to stand up. “Take your dress off.”

You turned around for Angel to help with the zipper and slid the dress off your body. You were about to climb on his lap once more, but Angel stopped you. “Bra and panties too. Leave the boots on.”

Unclipping your bra, you tossed it to the side and did the same with your underwear. Now here you were, standing in front of the man you were attracted to naked. You were feeling embarrassed or self-conscious, especially with the way Angel was looking at you, like he was ready to devour every inch of you. He began to run his large hands up your hips, over your stomach, and to your breasts, which he gave a squeeze.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Angel gushed as he continued to run his hands up and down your body before giving your ass a light smack.

He took one of his fingers and began tracing your pubic bone. Before Angel slid a finger inside your cunt, he looked up one last time to see if you had any reservations.

You gave the nod for him to go ahead. You let out a soft moan as Angel’s large finger stretched your folds.

“Goddamn, baby, you are tight. That’s it, fuck yourself on my finger,” Angel instructed.

You did just that before Angel slipped in another finger and used his thumb to tease your clit.

“Holy shit,” you managed to breathe out. To steady yourself, you put your hands on Angel’s shoulder.

Carefully, Angel took one of your legs and put it over his shoulder. He made sure to use his free arm to hold you up. “That’s it. Are you close?”

“Yes, I’m close.”

For added stimulation, Angel added a third finger inside your pussy. You could feel yourself tighten around his fingers. “I’m going to cum!” you exclaimed, your breathing becoming rapid.

“Cum! Cum on my fingers,” ordered Angel and you more than happily obliged.

Never had you experienced an orgasm so euphoric. If Angel could get you off with only his fingers, then you wondered how his cock would feel.

Pulling his fingers out of your folds, Angel licked them clean. The sight turned you on once again. You took your leg off his shoulder and leaned against his chest to catch your breath. He ran his hands up and down your back as a show of comfort. He even went so far as to take the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around your naked body.

When you finally came down from your high, you placed soft kisses along Angel’s neck and ear.

Giggling, Angel asked you what was funny.

“It’s just, I came here to make you feel better,” you blushed, “I didn’t expect you to…you know….”

“I’d do anything for you, baby,” Angel revealed as he stroked the side of your face. “Making you feel good has put me in a much better mood.”

“Well then, let me return the favor,” you said and began to unbuckle Angel’s belt, but he stopped you.

You quirked an eyebrow at him in confusion.

Angel wrapped his arms around you, and you settled closer on his lap. “We got all the time in the world, baby. No need to rush,” Angel expressed as he looked into your eyes. There was a sense of love and devotion in his beautiful dark brown orbs. He wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.

He was correct; there was no need to rush. The night was still young. You had plenty of time to return the favor.

[skybulb]

do u have any AUs? can u talk about them?

I have a royal au that maybe I’ll post more abt sometime ??? the lore isn’t the best it’s mostly just an excuse for preddy designs

I dunno if a similar au to this has been done already but. a bit abt my royal au that lives gently in my brain

here is a reeeeally rough idea of their designs rn

anne is the princess of wartwood (basically just a cute title w a little authority), sasha is the prince of toad tower and they’re both ambassadors for the valley which is under marcy’s watch (def not an excuse to get sashanne to come and visit them) sasha’s title is a bit more official and stronger than annes. marcy is heir to the throne of newtopia n they basically get adopted by andrias a few years in </3 olivia and yunan too hehehe

this au takes place 3-4 years after they end up in amphibia, in which marcy is hiding the box from everyone and has been since the beginning (definitely not a bad idea).

marcy establishes the royal hierarchy system outside of newtopia as a way to sort of engrain sasha n annes lives in amphibia more deeply as they’ll have much more responsibility to stay/keep them busy instead of thinking about home. marc is a bit more cold and distant in this au bc they become veeeerryyyy guilt ridden esp since sasha and anne have both got severe injuries (eye, arm, etcetc) and they feel heavily responsible for them but they stick by their plan for the sake of eternal friendship !!!!!!!

anne and sasha basically go around amphibia collecting info on the music box while helping various different communities, helping keep the peace and usual stuff ! marcy hardly ever tags along bc the guilt gets too difficult for them lowk. so they just keep themselves busy within newtopia. anne and sasha visit all the time to report their findings/be w marcy which doesn’t help their heavy guilt complex even tho the whole point is to be with their friends ?!?!? yea they don’t know either

sasha has also had tons of time to work on herself and is actually doing better. he never gets access to the box and they don’t try to take over the world <3 so everything goes a whole lot smoother and he softens up especially being in wartwood a whole lot

marcy no longer has to be the peace keeper between sasha n anne since they actually work on themselves and their relationship making marcy even more desperate and insecure abt their friendship/place within the group… they are simply a mess in this au wow but it’s fine (till they accidentally break the box haha….ha)

anne is basically the cute rapunzel of the au . she lives w the plantars even w her new status and marcy rlly wanting her to live in a tower near wartwood instead. she deals w wartwood-toad tower communications and helps to keep peace within the town etcetc while looking after other places in the valley w sasha ! !!!

since they never charge the stones I guess they all have their powers????! maybe if andrias gets bad even w/o the box they can take him down ez

actually idk what’s going on w andrias in this au i imagine he’s fine with waiting a few years for them to find the box as he’s already been waiting for 28293372 years what’s 5 more. so I guess he’s just dormant and waiting????? marcy already spilled the tea to him over flipwart and he gets evil quick ????? the events of true colors would just happen again whenever/if they get the box back/charged tho soooo

ya……….that’s all I have to say rn….……dies

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Eleven.

Huge thanks to those who are following this and interacting! I appreciate you all so much! 

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten

Words - 5,173

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"So, you wanted to know what it's like when you're first made vampire," Angel begins, while I flick a switch inside to turn on the many little outside lights I strung up around the creeper that grows over the awning overhanging my small patio. I wrapped them around the vines, and they look really pretty. In case you hadn't noticed, I like things that sparkle.

"If you wouldn't mind," I request, sitting down in the large, wooden chair opposite him, quickly taking a happy glance at my now beautiful back yard, feeling proud I actually put the effort in. I have mown grass, flower filled beds and some nice furniture, too. Come pay day, I'm building a barbecue. No gas grills for me.

"The first thing you notice is that you don't exactly feel like you any longer, you feel very far removed from who you were, and that’s simply because you're dead. It takes substantial time for you to find yourself again, and even longer to find your humanity. You've also got to get used to the blood cravings, the fact that when you’re hungry, you can easily drain someone as a baby vampire. Ursula had to teach me everything I know, she had to show me not so much how to be a vampire, but how to behave as one. You suddenly go from having ethics and morals, to having none, or rather adapting a different set. Not seeing daylight was hard for both EZ and myself for a long time too, as we both love the sun, but the blood diet you get used to almost instantly, that's part of the natural change," he explains for me, while I sit nodding and smoking, hanging on his every word. This is fascinating.

"Do you ever miss being human, or doing the things you liked most as a human that you can't do as a vampire?" is my next question.

"No, I don't. I very much enjoy being a vampire; the only thing I really miss is the daylight. The things I like most I can still do, like be creative, being social, and having lots of sex.” A slight smirk crosses his lips at that last statement. Without really consciously thinking it, I suddenly remember how good his hands felt on the back of my neck, imagining where else on my body they'd feel good, before slapping myself mentally. I can't go there, and really, why would I even want to? No, no, no, Edie. You cannot suddenly start to come round to the fact vampires aren't quite as sexually repellent as you thought, not with this one, at least. Yet the thought of him, though, being wrapped around me… well, I like it. As much as I don't want to, I do. Shhh, don't you dare go telling anyone. Especially not Aileen, you and me both know she'll never let me live it down.

Angel looks at me curiously for a moment, cocking his head slightly. “Why is your heart racing?”

Fuck. Of course, he can hear it. “I’m just excited! I love learning about things, I’m having a really good time.”  

His eyebrows flutter. “Hmm.” I’m not sure he believes me, but he doesn’t question it further. He just stares at me for a few moments before speaking again. "You've gone quiet all of a sudden, so therefore I think it's time for me to ask you a few questions. Do you mind me asking about your mother?" Angel says, after I've been lost in thinking about his hands wandering to certain places when I really shouldn't have been. I'm glad he's mentioned her, though, because there's nothing like thinking about that tramp of a woman to quell my desire.

"No, go ahead.” I'm okay with talking about her with those I trust with it. I know I don't know him well, but I just know I can trust him. Everything changed in that one moment in my chamber, when he finally got the truth out of me.

"What did you do after you found her dead? Was your father around at the time?"

"My father wasn't my real father, I suspect. That sums up the reason why I got beat by my mom. It was because he beat her and she took it out on me. I assume that was her reason anyway, because I wasn't his kid and he gave her hell for it. Anyway, he basically came in about fifteen minutes after I found her and told me he was done with us and left. I waited until the police came, told them I'd found her like that and said I wanted nothing to do with anything relating to her body or funeral at all, and then I packed my stuff and left. I lived on friends' couches, sleeping rough when I couldn't, got into a lot of trouble and ended up like you were, strung up for a punishing in the CD. That's what I did after she died, in a nutshell," I tell him.

"It's a shame for both of them that they, well one at least, produced such a remarkable daughter and they didn't even appreciate her," Angel replies, while I light another cigarette.

"What is it about me that you find so remarkable? Apart from the fact you say I'm strong.” It gives me a little feeling of a happy jump in my chest, when he compliments me.

"Well, there's that, you have both great mental and physical strength, you're determined and unyielding in character and in your work, and you use that anger your mother left you with in such a contained way that you must be remarkable. Humans seldom have that strength of character, and being blood tied to you for a short time showed me that. I felt it in you, the unwavering strength. Yet you're a humble girl. You make no song and dance of your bad childhood, and you just get on with your life. I find that admirable," he explains.

"A lot of kids had it a lot worse than me, and have done since the disaster. Back then I don't suppose children had proper childhoods. At least I had Vic, he was the guy who taught me to box. He took me in for a while too after my mom died, but I moved on quickly because I didn't want to trouble him. I was going through a nomadic phase as well. I just get on with life because it's the only one I'll have, and I can't dwell on the past. Even though I know I kept the contents of her suicide note festering away for long enough, and I imagine I'm beating her sometimes when I'm working, I don't feel troubled by it at all," I say, watching him smile a little at me. I also notice that even though my eyes may wander around, his never leave mine.

"Good, because too many humans use that kind of thing as a crutch, something to use as an excuse for whatever failing they've suffered or similar," he begins, before changing the subject drastically. "So, why no boyfriend?"  

"I'm enjoying the single life. I have been for two years now since I split up with my ex, Sarah. Yeah, I swing both ways," I reply, laughing when I see the predictably wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, I remember you saying before,” he begins quietly, shaking his head. “I'm sorry to be so typically male, but I like that. Hmmm, I think I like it too much, in fact. If only cold showers worked on me. I'd be asking to use yours right about now if they did," he then confesses, making me laugh even harder.

"I really don't know what to say to that," I laugh a little awkwardly, taking a deep breath and a swig of coffee to compose myself again. I then get a mental flash of what he might look like, naked and wet. Edie, stop!

"I think maybe nothing at all, until I've cleared my head of the certain mental pictures it currently contains.” He laughs quietly through his nose, while I just shake my head and feel a teensy bit embarrassed. Not over my sexuality, because I'm not ashamed about it, but more over whatever he's imagining right now. Then again, I'm just as bad. I was just picturing him nude in the shower, after all.

"So, are you single right now?" I ask, after a few moments.

His response is immediate and very steadfast. "Yes, and I plan on staying that way. The idea of monogamy does nothing for me, unless I met someone worthy of it, but I cannot see that happening.”

"I don't blame you. Relationships are hard work, I much prefer being single.”

"Do you ever get lonely?" he then asks.

"Sometimes I do,” I confess with a shrug, “but not that often. What about you?”

"No, I don't, not really. I miss the warmth of a human next to me sometimes, though. Companionship is something vampires seldom seek. We're just wired differently to humans. Well, some humans, since the one I'm sitting in front of right now has the same point of view as me," he tells me with a small smile.

"Not forever, I won't. I'd like to settle with someone someday, just not any time soon. I watch my friends Sasha and Miley, and sometimes it's like they're in a rush to find 'the one' and I often wonder if I'm strange, for not worrying about it at all.” It does make me feel like I might be weird when I compare my lack of desire to settle to that of their driving force to do just that.

"I never did when I was human either." he shrugs. After that, the subject moves on and we talk more about me. He asks me what interests me away from my job, and I fill him in over how I like to spend my spare time. I tell him such things as my dedication to my fitness, but that my diet could probably be improved upon. I also talk about my passion for finding old things and upcycling them. The two wooden chairs we're sitting in now are only new to me. They'd been thrown out by the woman five houses up, all covered in moss and mud with broken fixings. I asked her if I could take them and she said yes before helping me carry them home.  I sanded them both down, and then went to the hardware store and brought some new fixings and a tin of wood stain, changing them to the nice, deep mahogany colour they now are. They were pine before. I also tell him of the books I read, how I love to learn and detail the old music that I listen to.

The Western music scene is only just picking itself up again, and it's very different to how it was before. I like some of the new music of this day and age, but I prefer many of the artists pre-disaster. I sit and tell him a whole lot, in fact. All the way through he remains quiet while I talk, only asking the occasional question here and there, or adding his own opinion or belief on what I mention. He looks so thoughtful when I speak, though, so full of thought that it surprises me he can concentrate fully on what I'm saying, but he does.

"Edie, I have to ask you. You don't consider yourself to be particularly bright, do you? It's something I've picked up on several times, more through the way you sometimes speak of yourself than anything," he asks, leaning forward a little in his seat.

"Neither do you, consider me to be bright, that is. I'm not busting your balls over it, but you did call me stupid. Several times," I reply, but not harshly because I don't want him to think I'm mad about it. "And you meant it, when you said it." I then swiftly add, just before he's about to speak.

"You're no Einstein, but after hearing everything I've just heard, I want to know why you still estimate yourself even lower than that. You really aren't as stupid as you think you are, and I was wrong to call you that. In fact, you're not stupid at all.” I smile at him before looking down at the floor, a little embarrassed at the compliment. I don't really take them too well when people are talking about my intellectual savvy, or lack of it as I always think. Still, I liked it, just as before when he complimented me.

"I like to associate myself with smarter people than me, like Ahmed and Sasha, and Aileen is a very clever lady as well," I explain, while stifling a yawn.

"Aileen looks at you like a daughter, you know. I could tell in her voice when she came into the chamber, just how much she cares about you," Angel tells me, while I pull a face.

"Nah, I mean we're friends and I know she does care about us all, we're a good team down there at the CD. She likes to mother people in her own way, but she's got enough kids of her own to look at me like I'm one of 'em too," I reply, watching him shake his head.

"She does, believe me. I know. I'm also going to have to leave you now, the dawn is approaching rapidly," he laments, while getting up. I do the same, glancing inside at my giant wall clock, seeing its 4am. Wow, those last two hours in his company passed quickly.

"So, until you randomly pop up again," I tell him in parting gesture.

"Why don't you pop up in my world, but not so randomly? I have two free hours because of a cancellation next Saturday night from 9pm, come down to the shop and I'll cover that mess on your back with something much more fitting for the beauty it's etched upon," he tells me, giving me that look that makes me feels his eyes are looking right through me. Internally I shiver, and I really don't like it. There's something almost hypnotic about him.

"If I manage to find something I like in time, I'll be there," I reply.

"Come anyway, I have a heap of flash art and I have to do a line drawing of whatever you want first anyway, so you tell me an idea and I'll draw it. Or if you think of anything in the meantime, call me. I'm there between 9pm and 1am, except on Sunday. Until next week, Miss B." I’m handed a dark blue business card with the tattoo shop details on it, Angel looking at me very intently for a few seconds. I feel like someone is pulling all the air from my lungs, staring back into the dark chocolate pools of his eyes. I blink, and it’s in that blink that he's gone. The breath I let out is massive, and I didn't even realise I was holding it. There's something about him that's very enticing, but even if I did want him, I have to firmly remind myself I could never have him.

Well, I could, if I was willing to die for it. Rest assured it is very safe for me to say I'm not. But oh, if I could. I think I would, you know. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never been attracted to a vampire before, but after spending those two hours with him this evening, I dunno, it was something more than just the fact he's good looking. It's like there's this sparkle in the air when we talk, we seem to get along really well. I really don't get it, why him when no other vampire does it for me? Maybe I'm just tired and need to take a long sleep, and then I'll wake up perhaps thinking in less of a crazy way. Yeah, that's got to be it.

Angel's POV

"Are you staying down here, or coming up?" I ask the two alert looking faces of Thor and Icarus, who are waiting for me on porch of our home. I like this house purely because of how old it is. It was built in 1930, the year Charles and Ursula bought it upon moving here. They haven't stayed here the entire time between then and now, but this has always been their home base.  

The wolves immediately turn and run into the house, down the hallway towards the stairs while I lock and bolt both doors and draw the long curtains over the front door. There are glass panels either side where the light needs to be blocked.

"Alright, just for a little while.” I tell my wolves when they jump onto my bed after I've got in it. "You both smell, I need to attack you with shampoo and a hose." I then add as I scratch their faces and have them lick my hands, their bushy tails beating off the covers loudly. They're very happy boys, these two. I do notice that they haven't been quite the same since their sisters died, though. If only I'd have got to that motherfucking human a second quicker and grabbed that gun, they'd have lived. I cannot think like that, though. They're gone, and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't like situations where there is nothing I can do about the outcome. I have another one right now, too, the fact I want Edie and I can't have her. It's starting to prickle me a little.

Earlier on when I massaged her neck and shoulders, I had to fight an almost blinding urge to let my hands slip down to her tits, and then further down still. Even earlier than that when I saw her walking past the bar I was in, seeing how she was dressed made me think just what every other vampire who saw her would have thought; that I wanted to fuck her so hard, she wouldn't even be able to sit up, let alone walk. That's why I joined her literally as soon as I saw her, because vampires can be very predatory when they see something they like the look of.  

If you as a vampire tell another vampire that the human they desire is yours, then they have to back off. Many vampires have their own humans, people who love to associate themselves with my kind for whatever we want them for. Feeding and fucking are the top two, as you'd imagine. Or they work as daylight gofers, doing things for their vampire that he or she cannot do in the daytime. What I'd give to feed on and fuck Edie, preferably at the same time. That thought makes a highly aroused shudder run right through me, closing my eyes and imagining it for a few moments, a few moments more than I can stand.

Telling the wolves to get down I turn over onto my front and press my face into the pillow, grumbling with annoyance. Why the hell can't I control myself with anything with a heartbeat? I miss the sensation of hot flesh more than you could imagine. Turning my head to the side but remaining lying on my front, I close my eyes, the need for rest taking over as the sun begins to rise. Just as my thoughts start to blur to nothing and sleep takes hold though, something moving against me disturbs the process. At first I think it's one of the wolves jumping up on the bed, until I realise what moved against me is under the covers. I then feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn my head to see Edie lying there next to me, just as naked as I.

"Hi," she whispers, smiling as her hand moves to stroke my cheek.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaim, reaching out and moving a strand of hair from her face.

"Going to sleep next to you, so be quiet." She replies, making me laugh a little as I put my arms around her and she rests her head against my chest. It feels so real, yet I know it's just the working of my imagination, the fabrication we call dreams. When I close my eyes and then open them suddenly, I find myself alone and awake. I'm not awake for long, through, tiredness pulling me back in quickly, into a sleep that contains no further dreams. I know that having a very small dream of her going to sleep next to me more reflects the fact that I miss a warm body beside me than anything else, but when I can't seem to shake Edie from my thoughts the next evening when I awake, I wonder whether it could allude to more.  

Am I bothering with, feeling drawn to and being this nice to her because I just want her as a friend, or is it because I'm also attracted to her and I can't help it? I never have such complications usually, I'm simplistic and straightforward, I use logic and good common sense to analyse situations. This one is odd, because I've never felt such draw to a human before. Me being attracted to her doesn't come into it when I look at it like that, yet it is a factor I now know I cannot ignore. One thing I can't ignore right now is the fact that I have two sets of yellow eyes both staring at me from the door, giving me the 'we want to go out, get your ass up' look.

"Alright, let me get some jeans on, at least," I mutter Icarus and Thor pacing in circles and whining as soon as I throw the covers off myself and get out of bed. I can hear the usual noises of sexual abandon coming from EZ's room as I pass by with my wolves, grumbling to myself in a pissed off way, as ever. He definitely enjoys rubbing salt in my wounds with it, his capability to sustain sexual relations with humans when I can't.

"Evening, Angel," our housekeeper Maggie tells me as she's walking up the stairs and I'm coming down, resting her laundry basket down and stroking the wolves as they trundle down the stairs past her. She's a human woman of about sixty, and has known Ursula since she was a little girl.

"Hi, Maggie. Is there anything clean of mine in there?" I inquire, gesturing to the basket.

"Yes, that dark grey one near the top of the pile is yours. I shall leave the rest by your door, as always." Taking out the plain, deep grey t shirt from the pile and handing it to me, I thank her and leave her to her work, pulling the t shirt on and my boots at the door, heading out with my wolves for a walk. It makes me laugh the way Ursula refuses to do laundry and housework, she's always been the same. I don't mind washing my own clothes, but she seems to think it's beneath her. Then again, when she was human it was her job as the female of the house to do all the washing, cooking and everything else.  

Her parents died of disease when she was young, and so as the eldest child of twelve, she was the one left responsible for them. This is why she never married or had children of her own as a human, she was too busy effectively being the mother of her own siblings, and then was turned at thirty years of age. I don't blame her for not wanting to be a maid to us, too. It is here that I strangely begin to think about Edie's mother, and wonder what kind of a mother she was to her other than beating her. I wonder if Edie had to virtually look after herself as she grew up. I think she probably did. I then come to a stop and think a little longer on an idea I just had, and then decide to put it into action. Half an hour later and me and the wolves are waiting at the doorstep of a certain young lady with pale lilac hair.

"Twice in one weekend, well aren't I just the lucky girl?” Edie announces when she opens her front door to me at a little past 9pm.

"My wolves and I were wondering if you'd like to come for a walk," I propose, smiling down at Icarus and Thor, who look like they're waiting for attention to be lavished upon them. They don't wait long, Edie soon crouching to their level and letting them sniff her hands before beginning to stroke them. I trained them well, they're very people friendly with the ones they know they should be friendly to.

"And here was me thinking the next time I'd see you, you'd be putting me through vast amounts of pain with an inky needle. I'd love to, let me just put some sneakers on," she replies, before ducking around the other side of her front door and pulling out a pair of black sneakers she slips her feet into, taking her keys and locking up.  

"Sunday is a quiet day for me. Little to nothing to do since the shop is closed, the bars are all quiet and I'm not really all that social anyway, except with my own small circle. I usually just spend my Sunday's reading or walking with these two, so I thought I'd act on impulse and visit you. It seems my presence isn't unwanted either, since you didn't tell me to fuck off.” She laughs, nudging me softly with her elbow.  

"No, of course it isn't. I like being in your company, and I have to say I don't feel freaked out by you any longer either. You vampires, you have this void inside you that I and a few others I know can pick up on. I can feel the deadness in your kind and usually, I don't like it, but it's different with you now," she explains, making me very curious.

"How is it different? Because you know I'm not a threat to you?"  

"No, it isn't that. Well, I know you're not a threat to me, but that deadness I can feel within you actually makes me feel peaceful now rather than freaked out," she replies with a sideways glance at me. No makeup, her hair a little messy, a t shirt two sizes too big for her and a simple pair of shorts, and she still looks hot. If I could dive on her right now, I would.

"I'm glad that my presence no longer scares you. Wait, sit," I say to her first, and then my wolves as we come to the edge of a busy main road, Thor and Icarus both sitting down immediately and waiting patiently.

"Wow, they're so well behaved," she compliments as we cross when the traffic clears.

"I trained them well." If only I could train my own mind to be so obedient. I need to stop imagining what my new friend here looks like naked, I really do. 'She's a friend, who you just so happen to find attractive. You shall not let this drive you crazy' I staunchly tell myself as we walk. The whole reason I came to see her today was to begin further convincing myself I can handle being around her without wanting her on any other level than friendship. I'm struggling with every step, though, as I will no doubt continue to. She's getting under my skin, this girl. I like her for the obvious things I can name, and I like her just because I like her, too. I cannot explain it with any more certainty than that. It sparks a memory within me though, because it reminds me how I felt when I first met Luisa.

Had there been no disaster, had everyone lived, I would have married the mother of my son, should she have wanted to. I did ask her once, but her response was to flee. That, I don’t blame her for, she went through a hell of a lot. After her return with our son, Maverick, though, she seemed to settle, put away a lot of the trauma she went through as a result of her penance from leading Los Olvidados. When I first met her, apart from being attracted to how strong she was, just I am with Edie, I noticed that there was something about her, just her in herself that I was so pulled in by, yet I couldn't put my finger on it. Again, I feel much the same about Edie, and that's a scary thought. It's scary because with my homicidal sexual streak aside, I never planned on getting as close to another human (or vampire for that matter) as I was to Luisa ever again.

Apparently, a long time before Charles, Ursula had a human lover, one she was with for forty-nine years before he died after falling from his horse. She said it took her decades to get over the loss of Philippe, the human man she once loved. We vampires are very capable of love, and when we do, we love hugely. I'm not saying Edie is the kind of human I could fall in love with, or am I? Is that why I get so spooked out about this thing, this something about her, because the only other woman I've felt like that about was the love of my life?  

I know this is all very soon after getting to know her away from the confides of the CD, but I know that feeling I have inside, because I've only ever had it once before. Either way, I can't even let myself find out, because I don't plan on Edie dying, and if I act on anything like that then that is exactly what'll happen. But of course, I'm blowing this massively out of proportion, because Edie doesn't even want me in that way.  

“If we head up this way and turn right at the next crossroads, we can take them up to the park. Nice and open, they can run up to the rocky hills at the top and howl at the moon,” she points, linking her arm through mine. On impulse, I unlink and place it around her shoulders instead, hers moving to wrap around my waist, smiling at me sweetly.  

It all feels so fucking easy with her, and yet, it’s the furthest thing from it. Women. They’re just as much of a complicated subject for me in my death as they were in my life.  

[bellisperennis0]

Patched Up

Word Count: 907

Warning(s): None

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to get to, love. Hope you enjoy it. Thank you for reading! 🖤  GIF credit to @thedevilsmoonshine​

Anonymous asked: #17 and 46 from general with Bishop pretty please!

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” Angel’s voice boomed throughout the yard as he pulled you off of one of Vicki’s girls.

Every time she was at the Clubhouse, she was always trying to start something with you. Tonight was no different. She had been running her mouth from the second you had arrived, and you were getting fed up with her snarky remarks. Angel had told you all night to behave and to pay her no attention. You knew he was more upset at the fact that you allowed her to get the better of you.

“She had it coming, Angel, and you know it.” You tell him as you watch Gilly and Creeper walking her away. Patting your lip where you knew it was busted.

“Get in the Clubhouse.” Angel barked.

“Stop yelling at me, Angel.” You shove pass him as you storm towards the Clubhouse. You could hear Coco and EZ making remarks back and forth about how you handled the girl, you couldn’t help but smile.

Thankfully, the Clubhouse was fairly empty, so you beeline it for the back rooms so you can clean yourself up. You were almost in the clear until you hear the one voice you have been avoiding all night.

“Where are you going?” you hear Bishop call from behind you.

You debated on whether to turn around and face Bishop, or simply ignore him and continue on your way. Deciding that the latter would just cause more conflict, you turn to face Bishop.

One look at your busted lip and he was quickly making his way to you. Taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he lifts your chin as his thumb ghosts over the cut on your lip.

“What happened?” his raspy voice low and soft.

Before you could respond, Angel barges through the clubhouse doors in search of you, causing both you and Bishop to turn in his direction.

“I got this Angel.” Bishop tells him, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You sure Pres?” Angel asks, and you could see the smug smirk on his face. You narrow your eyes at him as you glare.

“Yeah, go enjoy your night.” Bishop tells Angel.

“Thanks, Pres.” Angel nods as he makes his way back outside.

Bishop turns to face you again, “Sit. I’ll clean up your cut.” He tells you as he gently pushes you towards the barstool making his way to the other side of the bar, grabbing the first aid kit you knew they kept there.

“Obispo, it’s really not that…” you tried to protest, but Bishop just glared at you.

“Sit.” He orders once again as he points to the barstool.

You roll your eyes at the use of his ‘Presidente’ voice, but do as you were told. Watching as he takes the seat next to you, swiveling you around so you were facing him.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he asks you as he inspects the contents of the first aid kit.

“Not really.”

“Don’t know why you allow Vicki’s girl to get under your skin?” he tells you as your eyes go wide in surprise. You didn’t know he knew about that situation.

“She had it coming.” you simply tell him

“I’m sure she did.” He tells you as he finally turns to you.

He goes to clean your cut, but stops when you quickly pull away from him.

“You flinched.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, because it hurts.” You tell him as you gently grab his wrist to stop him.

“I didn’t even touch you. Stop being such a baby.” He chuckles as he pulls you back to him as you allow him to clean up your cut.  

“Alright, beautiful. Think you are all good.” He gives you a wink as he tosses everything into the trash.

You tried to jump off the barstool, but he quickly places his hands on either side of you, holding you in place.

“Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?” he asks you and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you shake your head, “why would you even ask such a thing?” you ask him, but you knew exactly why he was asking such a question.

“Maybe because after I told you how I felt about you, you’ve been avoiding me.” Your heart aching at his confession and knowing this was most definitely your fault.

“I don’t know how to do this, Bishop. How to love someone and let them in. Everyone always leaves.” You barely whisper as you play with your hands in your lap.

Putting his finger under your chin, he gently lifts your head, so you were looking at him.

“I’ll never do that. I’m here, with you. That’s all I want. You.” He gently wipes away the stray tear with his thumb.

“I love you, I really do.” You tell him as you grab his forearm to hold him close.

Bishop smiles as he pulls you into a kiss, “I know you do, everyone does.” He chuckles as you burst into laughter.

Getting off the barstool, he pulls you off of yours, “Let’s get you home.” He tells you as he pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you place your head on his shoulder. He places a kiss to your head as you both make your way out of the clubhouse.

--xx

Taglist:

@sesamepancakes​

@yourwonkywriter

[mayansmcsblog]

the prank war has began

sooooo i saw this gif and instantly got an idea but as i wrote it, the idea completely changed and somehow it turned into this.

there is a ton of swearing😂

credit to @thedevilsmoonshine​​ for the gif!

thanks to @withmyteeth​ for helping me with some ideas of what to add in.

this is the first time I've wrote anything in years and the first time I'm ever publishing my work. sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes

A persistent ringing was what woke you up at 2am for the 3rd time this week. You already knew who it was, let's face it who else would be calling at 2am other than him? Opening your eyes you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling debating if you should let it ring out or answer

What if he’s hurt? No, that would have happened during the day not in the middle of the night Maybe he just needed someone to talk to? That was the likely option.

 You and bishop always had a ‘vibe’ as some people said. You were friends for a few months before he introduced you to the mc, of course it was a shock at first but after a month it slowly became your life. All the parties? you were there. Club events? You were there.

Overtime you and bishop had gotten closer, he would come over to your place all the time, announced or not.

he would come over in the dead of the night when his mind got too loud ,When he needed someone to talk to ,When he simply wanted the company of a friend that did not judge him for the things he did for the mc. He would come over any opportunity he got.

You could swear he was at your place more than he was his own Most of the time he would spend a few weeks at yours, only going back to his to get clothes.

Over the course of the last 6 months you and him had gotten a lot closer, he spent the night a lot, his stuff is all over the place but you two aren't dating , you didn't have any type of label. Why? You couldn't be sure. Most people assumed you two were dating but they were wrong. You two did everything normal couples would yet- you had no label. you were never his girlfriend and he was never your boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath you reached to your bedside table and grabbed your phone but as you could pick it up, it stopped ringing.

That’s not a bad thing right? Maybe he didn’t want to wake you up. Before you could set it back down you reserved a text, scrolling down your notification panel you read it;

📲: Bishop 🖤

You up?

Two words. That’s it just two short words.

Should you ignore it? Yeah, that's probably the best option. Did you want to ignore it? No

Another ping brought you out of your thoughts

📲:Bishop🖤

The guys are being children and I could either use some help over here or a way out😂please tell me you're awake and not just reading this from your notifications and watching Netflix again.

he knows you too well. Being a night owl you normally go to sleep around 3am, maybe 2am if you have work the next day. Normally you would just ignore bishop till the next morning but somehow he always knew when you ignored him and when you were actually sleeping.

Taking a look at your notifications again you saw you had a lot for snapchat, a  few from Coco, a few from Angel along with one single snap from Gilly.

Looks like the trio is having fun.

Opening bishop’s texts you finally reply;

📱: I’m awake just debating on if I should open all the snaps I have from the trio and reply to a seemingly annoyed jefe.

Almost immediately you got a response

📲:Bishop🖤

Ha-ha very funny. Come and sort your boys out, they are messing with that shitty ass car again, trying to do something with the engine

📱: my boys? You're their president, you sort them out. What makes you think they listen to me🤧?

📲: Bishop🖤

They actually like you😂they will listen

📱: keep telling yourself that, they only listen to me when I’m getting them food

📲:Bishop🖤

That counts as listening

📱: whatever

Locking your phone you got up out of bed knowing there was a slim chance you would go back to bed till the early hours now that you were awake. 

Putting on a pair of shorts and a shirt you got your phone and went to the kitchen, deciding to get on a bottle of water and find some shitty Netflix show you wouldn’t even pay attention to

Grabbing a bottle from the fridge you heard your phone vibrate on the counter. Pulling down the notification panel once again you saw it was a text from Ez

📲; smart ass😂📚

Please come and get these children, I can't deal with them anymore

Okay something is seriously going on here.

Face timing Ez you set the phone back on the counter, moving towards the window to open it and let the cool air flow thru the room

Within seconds he accepted and his voice came over the speakers

"Ayyy y/n where you at? Come get the children. Me and bishop are going crazy over here" you could hear a hint of playfulness in his voice 

Picking up your phone you saw he was sitting on the steps outside the club, his phone in his hand angled so you could just see the side of his head while he was looking at something in the distance. 

"I'm at home like all of you should be by now, leave the children alone to play. Are they hurting anyone?" you said as  you headed towards the front room and sat on the sofa

"Not yet"

You could hear cursing being thrown around by numerous people in the background along with the clacking on metal and rock music in the distance.

"Yet?" You questioned

"Yeah, I mean other than themselves" he laughed

"Of course"

There was a few beats of silence before you heard Coco shouting

"Boy Scout! Who’s that eh? You got you another girl?" By his tone you could tell he was definitely high

"No it's y/n dumbass" he responded, turning the phone so you could see Coco walking towards him.

"Ohhh damn I thought you was about to get some man" by now Coco had took over the whole screen "heyyyy y/n what you doinnnnn"

"I’m about to hang up on your dumbass"

"No, no, no don’t do that" taking the phone off Ez he stood up "that’s not nice is it"

You could hear Ez asking where he was going with his phone and be replied with a simple "shhhh" as he walked back to where he originally came from

"Want to see something funny?" He said. You weren't sure if that meant he was going to show you Angel tied to a chair again or Gilly attempting a backflip.

Both are amusing but it's doubtful it would happen three times....

"Did you tie Angel to a chair again? What did I tell you about playing nice hmm?" You put on the most sarcastic voice you could

"Ha funny and no...We couldn't find and ropes"

That made you laugh way more than it should have because you knew that Bishop had hid them in the meeting room and under Ez's trailor after the last time they guys got drunk and thought it was a good idea to put rope all over the place like an obstacle course

"Coco you're gonna kill someone at this rate”

"Hush ight? Jesus be quite ino want em to know your here"

"Okay?" Putting yourself on mute you could hear Angels voice in the background along with Gillys and bishops

"Listen," Angel said , slapping something metallic, clearly as high as Coco was and seemingly having one of his 'genius idea' moments

"OI dumbass listen to meeeee" he said again

"What?" Gilly responded along with a sound of something metal hitting the ground "dammit Angel you made me loose the fucking 10mm socket again"

The camera was still pointed at Coco’s shoulder as he walked over

"Boys, boys, boys" damn he sounded like a child "what would you say if I told you I could get y/n  to being us food"

You audible groaned as he suggested that, there was no way you was going to get them food this late at night.

You heard both Gilly and Angel say "what" then "tell her to get McDonalds" or "let’s get subway" by they were quickly cut off

"Oi children! Stop it, it's  2:30 in the morning, leave her alone '' bishops' voice was closer than you expected. He was probably sitting in the garage with the others observing what they are doing and making sure they don’t kill each other

You couldn’t help but unmute yourself

"Sorry Obispo but the children need their food" your tone was playful, kind of, half of you was saying it just to annoy him, the other half was wanting to see his reaction

"Gimme that phone" within seconds Coco was gone from the screen and Bishop was in the frame 

"So this is why you haven't replied to me hmm?" You couldn’t tell if he was serious or playful

You hadn't missed his text? He never responded to you right?

"Hold that thought" you pulled down the notification panel and saw he did text you.

2:15

📲:Bishop🖤

I’m kicking these guys out in a few minutes

2:20

📲: Bishop🖤

I’m giving them 3 more minutes till I kick them out.

2:23

📲: Bishop🖤

Can I come over if it's not too late after these children leave? "

"Oh, sorry I was busy talking to Ez and then being stolen by Coco" 

"Nah you were just ignoring me wasn’t you?" He responded

"No totally not"

"Sure I totally believe you" he laughed

"I think Ez might want his phone back"

"Wow, nice to see you like speaking to me"

"Well then why don't you call me instead? At least smart ass wanted to talk to me, even if it was about the children of the mc"

The line went silent for a moment. All you could hear was the guys cursing about finding the 10m socket and the sound of bishop walking.

"Okay, I’ll be back in like 20 minutes" with that the line went dead, he didn’t even give you time to respond

 Wow he deadass hung up on me, how mature.

Maybe it was time you opened those snaps. What else did you have to do?

Opening snap chat you saw there was a purple bubble next to Coco, a red bubble next to Angel and a blue bubble next to Gilly.

You opened Gilly's first

12:22~

"What time does McDonald’s close?"

Followed by

"Nvm its 24 hours isn’t it😂😂"

You quickly replied "dumbass" and moved onto Angel’s chat.

Opening the snap it was a picture of Coco, Gilly and creeper sitting opposite him, beers in hand, while seemingly talking along with the caption

"Come party with us"

Skipping past the snap you was presented with another one, this time a video where Coco was sitting on the roof of a car while Gilly was attempting to push it

"C’mon man it's not that hard" Coco said

"Yeah man come on" Angel said from behind the camera

"Shut up before I make you do this" Gilly responded

What the hell have these guys been up to all night?

The snaps just got worse from there. 

Coco’s was full of them doing random stuff, throwing things at each other and even them sitting on Ez trailer roof? How did they even get up there, and how did it not break?

One of them definitely stood out from the others. It seemed like someone else was filming on his phone while Coco was trying to rip off a car door by the handle but it snapped off, sending Coco across the garage and into the wall while Gilly, Ez and Angel laughed at him

His only response was a simple "okay you mother fucker this is war" followed by his practically running like a horse in battle towards the door kicking it resulting in a bent. Unfortunately that's where the snap ended.

Is this what they had been up to? No wonder bishop wanted out.

When the cascade of snaps finished you saw there was still a blue bubble next to Coco's name, clicking on it you could see it was a video around 3 minutes long. 

You saw part of it was what you had already seen. Coco trying to pull the door, being flung into a wall, the guys laughing along with Coco kicking the door once again except this time it didn’t end when he kicked the door.

"Bro you’re not doing it hard enough" Angel stated while moving Coco out of the way

"Look you gotta-" he kicked the base of the door "-start from the bottom-'' he kicked it again causing the bottom to cave in slightly "-see? It's easy"

"Shut up man I’m stronger than you let me do it" Coco pushed Angel out of the way

"No" Angel responded, pushing coco slightly

"Yes" Coco pushed back

"No" Angel pushed again

This went on for a few moments before Gilly set the camera down on some type of surface before walking over to them

"Yo I'm stronger then both of you let me do it"

Coco stopped pushing Angel and turned to Gilly "Nah man you will steal all the shit and run off again like last time"

"Shut up man"

All three of the men were too busy arguing to notice Ezekiel had come into the garage in search of something

"Why the fuck are you guys arguing?"

All of them spoke at the same time

"Coco is sayin he’s stronger than me"

"They are children!"

"Angels tryna be a smart ass"

"You guys are fucking stupid" Ez moved towards where the phone was but didn't pick it up, rather opening the draw of the desk that was below it and picking something up, as he pulled back you could see he was holding some keys.

"Move“ He pushed Angel out the way of the door and unlocked it, grabbing a duffle bag out of the back seat, handing it to Coco

"Here"

All of the guys stood in a state of shock. Coco was the first to speak

"Why the fuck didn’t you tell us there was keys!" He exclaimed

"Because watching you guys be idiots and is fun to see you struggle"

"I swear to God I’m going to say no on your patch vote" Gilly butted into the conversation.

Ez just laughed as he walked away, the video ended shortly after all three of them cussed.

Shaking your head you laughed, of course they are dumb enough not to look for keys.

You quickly texted Coco

"You guys are dumb as shirtttt, you’re lucky Ez is around to help your dumbass's. Did the door not want to play nice hmm? Did you put a dent in the wall again with your fat ass? What was so important in that bag?"

Checking the time you saw it was 2:45

Thank god it's a Saturday tomorrow.

Setting your phone on the coffee table you realized you never put the TV on when you sat down, you were obviously too distanced by FaceTime, meaning you were sitting in silence.

Was silence a bad thing? No

Was it somehow deafening? Yeah

Grabbing the remote you turned on the TV, quickly going to Netflix in an attempt to find something decent to watch.

Your watch list was full of horror movies and crime documentaries. Definitely not the best thing to watch on your own. There were a few suspense movies on there but none of them seemed to interest you.

Going to the movie section you passed almost every more option from horror to romance to action because nothing grabbed your attention or seemed interesting.

Going back to the home page you looked at the screen for a few minutes

Was it even worth putting something on? It was almost 3am after all.

Grabbing your phone you decided to scroll through Instagram.

After a few minutes bishop’s name appeared, taking over your screen with an incoming FaceTime.

Accepting the call you were immediately greeted with the site of his kutte, followed by him putting his helmet on. By the angle you could tell his phone was resting between his handlebars and the fuel tank.

"I take it you're still awake then" he wasn’t looking at the screen. Rather he was looking in the distance just above his phone

The background suddenly filled with the sound of bike engines. He seemed to say something but it was overpowered by bikes, so you didn't hear what he said. His bike wasn’t turned on yet because the phone wasn't vibrating.

Suddenly Bishop reached his arm out to someone just out of frame and you saw him lift upwards off the seat slightly, someone’s hand patted his shoulder blade.

By the look of the tattoo on the wrist you could tell it was Coco.

Looking away from your phone you looked back up at the TV. You could still hear engines coming from your phone but now it sounded like 3 of them.

Almost simultaneously they all revved before pulling off. The sound slowly faded out as they got further out the compound.

You were still looking at the TV, you decided to look at the top 10 of the day, maybe there was something good on there.

The Meg

Reading the description it actually seemed like a good movie. Putting it on you set the remote down and looked back at your phone

This time bishop wasn’t in the frame at all. Rather you could just see the length of his bike and the wall behind where it was parked.

Where did he go?

Your question was quickly answered when he picked up the phone.

By the sound of the wind you could tell he was jogging somewhere. The phone was at his side facing outwards, you could see him approaching the steps to the clubhouse. He quickly went up them and opened the door

"Prospect!" He shouted "make sure you lock up, I’m heading out"

You could hear Ez reply with a quick "okay" from somewhere in the back

He picked up his phone so you could see his face. unlike before, you took the time to actually take in his appearance 

His eyes looked tired, his beard was longer than it usually is, he looked...well, you couldn’t describe it. He just didn’t seem himself.

You were too busy looking at him to realize he asked you a question

"Y/n"

"What?"

"Did you not hear me?"

"Oh- no sorry I turned my volume down because of the bikes"

"Oh" he paused "I asked if your door was open"

You looked at the screen for a second

"What?"

He placed his phone back on the fuel tank and straddled his bike

"I said, is your door open. You know like your front door.....to your house" he repeated, grabbing his helmet, he must have taken it off while you were looking at the TV, once again he was fastening the buckle.

"No? Why?"

"Do you want to unlock it?" you could see him kick the stand of the bike up by the way his leg moved.

"Why?" You asked he looked at the screen for a few seconds before laughing at the way your face changed as you realized what he meant

"Obispo are you inviting yourself over once again?" You questioned

"Yep"

"What if I don't let you in?" You challenged. Of course you would let him in but sometimes it was fun to mess with him

"What if I climb through a window?" He said, pulling a cigarette out his pocket and lighting it

"Okay now that's just creepy" you laughed. He shook his head as he blew out the smoke from his lungs

"So? Can I come over or not?"

Looking around your front room you saw it was a little messy but you could easily clean it up within 5 minutes.

"Sure"

"See you in 20 querida" he winked as he started the bike before ending the call.

~

You finished cleaning the front room, kitchen and your bedroom up within 10 minutes

Checking the fridge you saw that there were only 4 beers left, taking a mental note to get more the next time you go shopping.

Sitting back on the sofa you realized you had missed around half of the movie.

Pointless watching it now

You knew by bishop coming over there was a good chance you two would be awake till 4am talking about random stuff and watching something on Netflix or playing some type of game.

You also knew he liked action movies so you went to that section in search of one that sounded entertaining 

The platform ~ that didn’t sound so bad right?

Watching the preview, you became interested and wanted to watch it, forget Bishop you can watch it on your own.

"The ones above, the ones below and the one before" the voice of a man came over your speakers, he sounded young but old simultaneously.

You had just got past the introduction when you heard the rumble of a bike in the distance. For a moment you wondered if it was off the TV but as it got louder you realized it was bishop.

Getting up from the sofa you walked towards the door.

You set your hand on the door handle for what seemed like hours as you waited for him to pull up outside. Did you normally meet him at the door? Nope. Most of the time he would invite himself over and just sit down on the sofa with you for hours.

Sometimes you two spoke the whole time he was over until you both went to bed, other times you would sit in a comfortable silence- just happy to me in one another's presence.

You heard the engine cut off just beyond the door. You counted to three before unlocking it, as you did you saw Bishop was parked on the curb, still sitting on his bike while setting the helmet on the handlebars. He was yet to notice you standing at the door.

Taking a cigarette out his pocket he turned towards the street, looking at the houses to see if your neighbor's were awake, you had no idea why he did it but every time he pulled up, whether it was in a car or on his bike he always seemed to look at the neighboring houses.

He lit the cigarette, back still turned to you as he looked down the street. Leaning against the door frame you looked him over you could see that his posture was slouched indicating he was tired, he still had one hand resting on the handlebars almost like he wasn't just looking down the street but also trying to crack his back. The other hand was on the cigarette in his mouth, even from the distance from the doorway to the curb where he parked. You could see his leg was bouncing and so was his hand slightly, now that definitely wasn't normal.

 As he exhaled the smoke he turned around towards your house, jumping slightly when he saw you standing at the door. He seemed to compose himself as he took the keys out of the bike and stood up, walking towards you, his head bowed slightly as he tossed the cigarette onto the food

“I hope you are going to pick that up” you said 

“I will” he looked up at you, he was just beyond the porch steps. His eyes looked tired, there were clearly bags underneath them. He was definitely tired- if you knew anything about him ,he probably hasn't slept for a few days, and if he did it was for a short time

“You look tired”

“So do you” he cracked a small smile, by now he was standing in front of you

“Maybe because someone woke me up at 2 in the morning then I had to deal with grown ass men asking me to bring them food then suddenly someone decided to invite themselves over?”

“In my defense i thought you were still awake and the children wasn't my fault” 

You laughed as you moved away from the door frame and towards the kitchen “just come i stupid before i lock you out”

“Ouch that's harsh” he put a hand over his heart “that insult really hurt” he walked threw the door and shut it behind him, hanging his kutte up on the coat hook in the hallway along with his jacket

“Stop being a wimp” 

You heard him move into the front room and sit on the couch.

“Want a beer?” you asked as you went in the fridge for another bottle of water

"Yeah- what's this?" He questioned

“What's what?”

”On the TV dumbass” 

Walking back into the front room you saw he had his hand behind his head, his phone was on the table along with his keys.

“Oh, the platform. It seemed interesting so I started watching and only someone distracted me” you said as you handed him the beer and sat on the sofa, leaving some space between you and him.

“What's it about?”

“Not too sure something along the lines of some type of prison system where the food is on a moving platform, I only just started it”

“Hmm” grabbing the remote he pressed play while sipping his beer.

You two sat in comfortable silence while watching the movie but every so often you would look over at bishop, partly to make sure he wasn't asleep and partly to see if he was okay.

Over the time span of 30 minutes you noticed he wasn't watching the movie, rather he was looking at the wall clearly spaced out somewhere in his own mind. He was sitting so his right elbow was on the arm rest and his right hand in his mustache, messing the hair lightly. He always did that when he was thinking about something. His other hand was resting in his lap holding the beer you gave him.

“Bishop?” you waited a few moments but he didn't respond “Bishop'' you repeated, still no reaction. Taking the beer from his hand you set it on the table, putting your hands on his cheeks you turned his face toward you “bishop”

“Hmm?” he finally looked at you. Removing your hands from his face you looked him in the eyes

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing” he said shaking his his head

“Don't lie to me” your tone came out harsher than you intended he raised his eyebrows at you

“sorry didn't mean to sound like i was being mean” you pulled away slightly with the intention of going back to where you originally sat but that idea was quickly thrown out the window when he grabbed your torso and practically picked you up, sitting you on his lap. He put his head in the space between your shoulder and neck while rubbing his hands down your back

“What's wrong Obispo?” you asked once again, putting your hand in his hair, playing with it slightly.

“I'm just stressed” his voice was muffled as he spoke into your shouder

“About?”

“Everything” he moved his head so he was looking up at you “the stuff with Marcus leaving, the mc as a whole with the guys turning against each other ,all the shit going on with other clubs. Everything is just a mess and it's stressing me out” he explained. You kept on hand playing with his hair while the other went to his cheek

“Can you do anything about it?” you asked, he cocked his head to the side slightly clearly not understanding what you meant ”can you do anything about that stuff?” he looked at you for a moment before shrugging his shoulders

you continued “Marcus made his own mind up, you can't do anything there. The mc always sorts itself out, members fight, it's normal, you of all people should know what.” you explained while using your thumb trace the lines across his face caused by the lack of sleep

“Yeah, i guess you're right” he leaned up and kissed you softly “I have to say, I'm a president of a fucking mc and yet your smarter then me”

“I'm not smarter than you, I just look at what's happening and think about in the moment, where as you” you poked his chest lightly “ seem to think its a good idea to overthink stuff and look at consequences a year in advance that will probably never happen” He hummed in response before putting his head back into your neck

“Can i ask you something?” you asked

“You just did”

“Very funny” you moved to get out of his lap but was quickie pulled back down

“What was the question?”

”What the hell was in the duffle bag? coco sent me the video them trying to get it and it seemed like they really wanted it”

“Oh” bishop almost immediately started laughing to the point his whole body shook and his head was thrown back.

“Tell me stoopid” you slapped his chest slightly, playing with his shirt

“Well you see- me and Ez thought it would be funny to lock it in a car that needed scraping while they were getting high and then tell them the doors didn't work to see how long it would take for them to it but Gilly ended up pushing it from the front by the fighting cage to the garage” he managed to get out

“That didn't answer my-”

“Just wait” he cut you off “neither me or Ez knew what was in it but those three are too stupid to just break a window so they were attempting to get it for a good 20 minutes before Ez opened the door and got it out” he explained still laughing slightly “turn out it was just full of junk food and snacks they brought to eat once they get hungry later ”

“You two are evil”

“No we was having fun” he laughed

“Evil”

Just as bishop was about the respond his phone started to ring, you moved out his lap and sat back on the couch while he get up and went out the back to answer it.

looking at the tv you realized the film wasn't interesting you at all. Grabbing you phone you saw you had a snap from coco and one from angel 

what did they do now?

opening the app you clicked on to yours and Angels chat only to find a simple text

“if coco send you a video, delete it”

what?

“why” you replied before swiping off the chat and going onto Coco's. inevitably you where present with a video and a chat 

“Pease, please watch this it will be the best favor you ever do for me 🙏🏽”

your curiosity got the better of you, clicking on the video you immediately recognized the place.it was Angels front room. Gilly was chuckling lowkey behind the camera while coco was next to the door on a stool with a bucket in his hands while laughing. The camera panned down to show Gilly holding a bag of flour, now you could only assume that the bucket was full of water 

surely this couldn't end good

within a few seconds the door opened and angel walked in, coco immediately reacted throwing the contents of the bucket on top of his head while Gilly threw the flour over him.

Angel immediately froze, his face going into a startled expression followed by on of anger. Shutting the door behind him he shook of the excess flour before locking the door.

Gilly and Coco where in hysterics as Angel turned towards Coco and lunged for him, coco had a quick reaction and ran towards the backdoor , only to find it locked 

“fuck” he cursed looking for ways to escape, looking at the kitchen window he seemed to weight out his chances. by now Angels attention had gone towards Gilly who was still stood in the same place laughing. Angel lunged for him, tackling him to the ground while coco grab the phone from Gillys hand and made a run for the kitchen.

There was a lot of laughing from Gilly and shuffling in the background along with Angel cussing him out , then there was a bunch of laughing from them both of them but you could make out Angel saying “you think that shits funny huh?” “watch me key your bike” “ I'm gonna get you back so hard man

suddenly the phone was tossed out the kitchen window, shortly after you could see coco's head and body slowly emerging from the kitchen window. after a few seconds he finally managed to crawl out. picking up the phone he began to jog down the front yard 

“ha bitchesss I'm freeeee!”he exclaimed “the one time being skinny pays off”

in the background you hear a door unlock followed by Angel shouting “run bitch cuz I'm fucking coming for you”

then the video cut off

you where sat on the sofa crying from laughing so hard you quickly saved the video and texted coco back

“that is the best thing I've seen in months😂”

just as you started to calm down you started to hear bishop laughing from outside the backdoor. almost imminently he walked threw the back door in hysterics 

“did you-did you see-” he could barely talk in-between laughing 

“did i see the video?” 

“yeah”

“yes i saw it” you laughed

taking his phone he turned it towards you, it was a FaceTime from angel covered in flour, his beard was a littler of loose flour and a clumpy mess of flour and water. you couldn't help by laugh at his serious expression

“not funny y/n” he said clearly angry. in the background you could hear Coco and Gilly laughing

“you watched the video didn't you” it wasn't a question rather a statement 

“yeah” you replied still laughing 

“fuck sakeeee” suddenly he cut the call of cause both you and bishop to laugh even harder

~~~~~~~~

so yh this was men to be a fluff with bishop but i got distracted and it just kind of turned into the start of a prank war between Coco, Angle and Gilly.

[whatupitsastarrynite]

Undercover

Prompt: Your angel’s girl, but you also work as a mercenary for the cartel. Not solely for Miguel but you work jobs sporadically so you couldn’t be tied to the cartel. After all, it would be terrible for a coveted government agent to be linked to a cartel, except you didn’t work for the American government, Germany was the place to be.

You walked into the club, eyes all on you, the newcomer that no one has laid their eyes upon. You looked to your right and saw the MC, in their full glory, drinking it up and enjoying the women. Your eyes connected with Angel and he smirked, lifting his drink up to you. With no reaction, you looked up and locked eyes with Miguel Galindo, a friend of a friend. You rarely worked for him, but he was always pleasant to work with. Angel was not happy with this plan, but business was business.

Making your way down the stairs, you headed towards the bar where your target was. The man was a new heroin player and apparently showed no fear towards Miguel. He was arrogant, careless and predictable, a young blood as they would say. You took the seat beside him and he immediately turned to you. He owned the bar, for now, but by the end of the night, he would be nothing but a blotch on Miguel’s ever growing legacy.

“You’re new.” He commented.

“Visiting family,” your explanation was short, he didn’t need much from what you gathered. Once he saw a piece of ass, it was hook line and sinker.

“In Santo Padre? I doubt anyone in this shit hole could be related to such a beautiful specimen as you.”

His words wanted to make you cringe, but you kept your cool, smiling coyly. “Is that your way of getting into my pants?”

“Is it working?”

You looked at the bartender and ordered a drink, turning back to him, you ran a hand down his exposed chest, the gold chains rested on his chest. “Maybe, I’m hard to impress.”

“I’m sure I can make something happen.”

Angel watched you put your hands on this man, the grip around his glass tightened. He hated this. He knew you did plenty of undercover shit, but not in front of him. He was against this plan, but how could he outvote Miguel Galindo? If anything, why did you work for the cartel when you technically worked for the government? Even though it’s the German government.

“Keep it cool ‘Mano.” Coco warned. “It’s just business.”

“Easy for you to say, it’s not your girl doing this shit.”

“My girl don’t work for Galindo, so I guess that’s a plus.” Coco joked but he knew Angel was not in a joking mood.

You smiled at the new player over the top of your drink. His eyes suggestively looked over your barely covered body.

Rompers were your favorite and tonight you had decided to wear a skin tight black romper with a deep V that showed plenty of chest as well as plenty of leg. You paired it with your black, wraparound chunky heels and some gold jewelry.

“Never caught you name..” The man said

You huffed and took a drink of your whiskey.

“I didn't catch yours” you replied

He eyed you for a moment before he ordered a round of tequila shots and then turned his entire body to face you. His knee brushed against yours and you had to stop yourself from flinching away from him.

“Alec..” He said simply

The bartender placed two shots in front of each of you and you arched your eyebrow before downing your whiskey. A small drop stayed on your lips and you licked it off suggestively while giving Alec intense eye contact.

“Veronica.” You replied as you wrapped your perfectly manicured nails around the first shot glass.

There was no way in hell you were giving out your real name, and you changed aliases every time you went undercover and this time was no different.

“Veronica…I like it” Alec said

“Mm, cheers.” You said as you raised your glass and quickly downed it. You sat the empty glass down next to your whiskey one and turned to look back at Alec who was now licking his lips.

He outstretched his hand and placed it on top of your left thigh in a possessive manner. His fingers were spread wide and he leaned in closer to you as he asked about your interests.

From the corner of the bar, Angel let out a small groan. His hands were clenched around the bottle so hard that he felt like he was going to break it. His legs were bouncing up and down impatiently and he was biting down hard making the muscle in his jaw jump.

“You good?” Ez asked from behind him

“Fuck no! He’s got his disgusting hands all over Y/N….i should go over there and cut them off his fucking body.” Angel snapped

“Calmate Angel. She is doing her job.” Galindo said as he lowered his elbows down on the table in an inconspicuous way. To a stranger it would look like Miguel was simply watching the sports game on the TV.

“What if it was Emily?” Angel whispered harshly.

Miguel arched an eyebrow at Angel but didn't give him any eye contact.

“One of the many reasons I don't mix business and pleasure.” Miguel whispered back.

Angel rolled his eyes and looked back over to you.

You were laughing loudly, your head thrown back and your hair falling around your face. You looked so beautiful and all Angel wanted to do was rush over there, take you into the alleyway and fuck you against the cobblestone wall.

Unfortunately, business was getting in the way.

But this business needed to get his fucking hands off your body because Angel was slowly but surely losing all his patience– and he wasnt even a patient man to begin with.

You saw the two Reyes brothers and Miguel at the end of the bar. You could see the anger just radiating off of Angel. You scratched your chest, signaling for Angel to calm down, something you two established since you two couldn’t exactly communicate. While you looked away, Alec slipped a drug in your drink. Angel almost fucking lost it, but you saw his actions through the mirror of the bar. While he was looking away, you switched your drinks. He had waved off his man, seeing himself as untouchable due to the fact he owned the Damn club.

But that’s why young bloods died off easily.

Invisibility was earned, not given.

You smiled, eating the olives off of the stick, licking the olive for good measure. He groaned and when you looked up at Angel, you saw him looking up at the ceiling, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. That action alone made you clench your thighs together. You couldn’t wait till Angel was in between your fucking legs later, holding you down and getting orgasm after orgasm out of you.

“You’re fucking stunning.” He pulled you closer, his lips almost touched yours, but you moved away, kissing his cheek.

“Gonna take more than that for you to get me.” You pulled away, taking another sip of your drink, which he was ecstatic about. Soon enough you wouldn’t be able to fight him off. He downed his drink and smiled.

“How long will you be in town?”

“Long enough.” You shrugged. “It’s kind of getting hot in here,” you fanned yourself.

“You wanna get out of here?” Alec didn’t beat around the bush, and you appreciated that.

“Sure.” You picked up your clutch where your gun was situated.

Alec put a hundred dollar bill on the bar top, obviously trying to impress you. You merely smiled and looked at Angel who looked at you as if you were prey. Your clothes barely covered anything and lived little to the imagination. But you were playing a game, it was your uniform. You could feel Angel’s eyes on you as he led you to the alleyway.

As soon as you two were out of sight, Angel tried to make his way over to the door, but EZ stopped him.

“Give it a few minutes.” Ez advised.

Angel pushed his brother off frustrated this was going on. And it further irritated him how fucking horny he was right now.

When you got outside, Alec slammed you against the wall, his lips already on you. You wanted to vomit, you hated how he tasted. You felt his hand slide up your thigh, but you turned you both around.

“I’m more of a giver.” You unbuckle his belt and as you did, you got your gun out of your clutch. “A gift from Mr. Galindo.” You stepped back and shot him point blank on the head, his blood splattering on your skin, your clothes. It was unnerving how much killing another person didn’t bother you as much, but it came with years of killing.

The door of the club opened and you locked eyes with your fiancé, Angel Reyes.

Everything slowed as Angel stared at you. The breath left his lungs and got caught in his throat as he took in the specks of blood that were splattered across both your skin and clothing.

He knew that he should run over to you and make sure you were okay but his feet were firmly rooted on the sidewalk. It was simple, he was in awe of you- you stood there strong, independent and sexy as hell. You didn't need his help, hell, he didn't even hear you shoot thr guy.

Any normal human would turn his nose up at the red droplets scattered on you, but that only served to turn Angel on more. His dick was achingly hard, and despite his jeans being a thick material, his arousal was easy to spot.

"Told you everything was going to be okay." Miguel said as he strolled behind Angel confidently.

"Nestor, take care of this and Y/N- pleasure doing business with you. Per your request, your payment has been left in your car trunk. As stated...no ties to me." Miguel continued

You nodded and slowly put your gun back into your clutch. You made your way over to the men, not bothering to pay attention to anyone except Angel.

"Pleasure was all mine Mr. Galindo. I'm available any time you need more....assistance." You replied as your eyes flicked over to the Cartel leader.

He smirked at you and nodded softly before he made his way over to the Mayans President.

"We're leaving." Angel said shortly.

You smiled up at him, you weren't an idiot. You could see how turned on he was from a mile away, he had never been able to hide that part of him from you.

"I rode in the van today, so we can just take your car." Angel continued.

He stretched out his hand and you quickly interlocked your fingers with his. His warm hand grounded you and reminded you that even though you felt nothing when you killed another person, you did in fact feel something every time you were with Angel. He made you feel like a human, not a robotic killing machine that you often thought of yourself as.

"I'll drive." You stated as the pair of you broke apart and made your way to your sides of the car. Angel didn't argue, he wouldn't even try, he learned over the years that you liked to control everything. No- you had to control everything, otherwise your mind would spin out of control and your emotions would spiral in a way that was dangerous for everyone.

Rather than finding you a freak- angel found you endearing. He helped you regulate your thoughts and emotions, he broke down every wall you had- and he was the only person you ever gave up control to.

The ride home was tense due to the air in the car being charged with sexual energy. You wanted Angel just as bad as he wanted you and try as you might to reel your body back in, you couldn't stop your arousal from soaking through your panties and making the insides of your thighs slick.

When you arrived at the house, Angel was on you quicker than any other time before. You had barely stepped out of the car when he shoved you against the drivers side door. He shoved his thigh in between your legs and rutted against your body. Your head fell back and he took advantage of that and began to lick and nip at your neck.

"Fuck dulce you have no idea how turned on I am right now. The whole time that bitch had his hands on you all I could think about was cutting them off and feeding them to him as he watched me fuck you against the bar." Angel growled against your neck.

You let out a small groan and let your fingers intertwine with Angel's thick hair. You ground your hips down on him and he licked up your neck while his hands cupped your ass deliciously.

"Angel... I need a shower." You stated

Angel kissed your neck twice more before he moved to your lips. You knew him well enough to know he was ignoring you and you rolled your eyes at him.

Your hand found the middle of his chest and you pushed him back some. At the same time, your other hand grabbed his chin and made him look at you.

"Let me shower and then you can have your way with me...however you want. Okay baby?"

Angel let his head fall back and he groaned before he lifted his head back up and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and licked his lips before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it...just hurry up. You've tested my patience enough tonight."

You quickly showered, scrubbing the man’s scent, his residual touch on your skin. Killing people has come easier, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t chip a part of your soul. Whenever you were outside of Santo Padre, you had to become a ruthless killer with no qualms. Control was everything to you because if you didn’t have it, it made you antsy. You can’t control the outcome without having all variables. So you were a lone wolf, working alone was much easier than having teammates, too many pawns, too many bodies, too much accountability. 

You got out of the shower, wrapping yourself with a towel. When you walked out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom with Angel, he was already naked, his cock raring to go. He looked at you, light brown eyes dark as could be, waiting for you to come and join him.  Dropping your towel by the doorway of the bathroom, you placed a knee on the bed you two shared, eyes locked on Angel. You met him six years ago and you two haven’t parted since then. Angel was a bit of a pest and he didn’t leave you alone, it was endearing and he made you feel again. The shy girl you left behind, the quiet woman that everyone walked over, she came back whenever you were with Angel.

You felt human again.

“So how are we doing this daddy?” The one time you gave up control was to Angel and that took years. Whenever you two were together, you gave part of the control to Angel, but in the bedroom, you trusted him fully and gave all the control to him. You loved him, he was the best part of you, your partner in crime and for him, you would give whatever he wanted. 

“Come sit on my face.”

You asked no questions and followed command. You placed each knee on each side of Angel’s head, your hands on the headboard. Looking down at Angel, you groaned when you saw his sinful tongue dart out of his mouth and made contact with your heated core. A moan escaped your lips as Angel lapped up your sex, moving your hips to move along with his tongue. Fuck, Angel was sinful, nothing like his namesake. 

But if he was any Angel, he would be the fallen one, Lucifer. 

You threw your head back, Angel knew your body too well and he could make you cum without so much of a try. As you came, he held you down, his tongue continued to lap at you, catching every juice that fell from your hole. 

“Angel, fuck, that feels so good.”

He smacked your ass. “That’s not my name princesa.”

“Daddy, that feels so good.” You wanted to push him away, but you knew Angel wouldn’t like that. You didn’t want to test him today, you knew that seeing you in action was going to infuriate him. This was the first time he saw you undercover and you hoped it would be the last. Fucking with men without your fiancé looking at you was easy, when he was six feet away, all you wanted to do was be in Angel’s arms. 

Vulnerability was not your strong suit, but it occurred when you were with Angel. You were carefree, which in hindsight was dangerous, but you knew he would protect you. 

Before you could even react, Angel had you on your back, your legs together and pushed towards your chest. You were like bent into a ‘C’ of some sorts, Angel’s mouth was still latched onto your clit. 

“Jesus Christ, daddy, fuck, I’m cumming again.” And just like that, Angel got another orgasm from you.

He moved away, watching as your legs shook. He bit your skin, smacking your ass once again.

“This is never happening again,” he told you. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, always.” 

"Fuckin right." Angel growled out

Your body was despite aching to be filled by him and you stared up at Angel through your lashes in an attempt to get him to push his dick into you.

Angel smirked down at you and arched a perfect eyebrow before he bent down and kissed your lips. He sucked your tongue into his mouth and used his own tongue to lick at your bottom lip.

He pulled away quickly and nipped at your chin before his fingers reached between your thighs. He began to stroke your folds while his thumb circled on your sensitive clit. You moaned loudly as he used his free hand to push your legs open more.

"You're so wet for me..." Angel whispered as he hovered over you.

Your back arched into his touch and you were on the edge of begging for him to put something- anything, inside you. You needed it like plants needed the sun. As he adjusted his body, his dick slid across your skin on your thigh and a trail of precum followed it.

Your eyes flicked to the wet spot on your leg and then you looked back up at Angel. His gaze had darkened impossibly more to the point where he looked almost feral.

Slowly you moved your fingers to your thigh and you scooped up the tiny amount of cum onto your index finger. He kept his eyes trained on you as you seductively brought your hand to your mouth and began to lick your finger clean.

Angel's unique taste exploded on your tongue and it only made your body crave him more. His fingers were still teasing at your entrance and you whimpered out a small plea.

"Please daddy...."

"Please what?"

You arched your body again, and rolled your head to the side as.you ground your hips down onto Angel's hand.

"Use your words baby..." Angel whispered

You looked up at him as your lips parted. A breathy moan escaped your mouth as Angel pressed down on your sensitive bud.

"Shiiiiiiit, I need you Angel, please, fuck me please daddy." You cried out

That was all it took, Angel withdrew his fingers and quickly replaced them with his dick. He hovered above your body on his forearms and right before he shoved his mushroom tip into your awaiting entrance, he kissed your lips gently.

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he pushed his member into your wet hole- in one stroke he bottomed out and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head.

His eyes fluttered shut and he inhaled deeply as he adjusted himself to being inside you.

"Damn...you feel so amazing....you always feel so amazing."

You moaned in agreement, your eyes were closed, just letting yourself feel Angel surrounded your senses. Your sense of smell, touch, hearing, and taste were all clouded by Angel. You didn’t need to see Angel for him to cloud your sight. He was sliding in and out of you, he was groaning, praising how well you were taking him.

Angel watched as your eyes had fluttered close, he knew how you were. You loved closing your eyes as he pounded into you, letting all your other senses heightened as he overtook your body. He looked at your body, the scars of previous assignments screamed at him. Even though it was your job, he wasn’t exactly happy about it. One time, you came home to him barely standing, but you managed to smile and still comfort him. He loved you, he loved you so much that it was overwhelming. His jealousy wasn’t out of insecurity, he just didn’t like any man being near you who wanted you. He saw the tattoo he designs on your left rib, just below your breast.

“We should add to this,” he traced the tattoo, which was his name.

“Okay,” you bit down on your lip. “Fuck Angel, go faster.”

Angel chuckled, smacking your clit making you whine. “What’s my name?”

“Daddy.” You gave in, not wanting to prolong anything. You just wanted to cum, to feel Angel cost your walls.

“I love you mi corazon,” he bent over and took your lips with his.

“I love you daddy.”

Angel moved faster, sliding in and out of you as he watched you open your eyes. Angel had intense eye contact and so did you. You never looked away from Angel when he was giving you immense pleasure and it was no different now. He spread your legs, slowing his speed and watched himself slide in and out of you. He watched his dick creamed with your juices, and it brought it immense pleasure to know he did this for you, that he could pleasure you in this way. He placed one of his cold rings against your clit and it made you clench him harder. He repeated the motion and you cried out his name, your back arching. His rings always felt so fucking good, it should be against the law just how much pleasure his rings brought to you.

You gripped the sheets, begging Angel to let you cum. And just as you were about to cum, Angel pulled out.

You let out a broken sounded moan as your body tried to chase the pleasure Angel was taking away from you. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, it was shaking and so overstimulated that you couldn't even think.

Angel observed you from above. He took in every sight, listened to every sound you made and at the sound of his name leaving your lips some more precum leaked out of his tip.

He was so fucking close to climaxing- his dick was uncomfortably hard now.

"Angel pleaseeeeeee!" You screamed out

"Who?" Angel demanded as his hand shot out and encircled your neck. He put just the right amount of pressure on your esophagus so that you could breath but it was harder to do so than normal.

"Daddy!" You replied with a short breath.

Angel groaned, he couldn't hold himself off any longer. His fingers tightened around your neck and in one swift motion he buried himself all the way to his hilt into your wet pussy.

All it took was one perfectly positioned thrust, and you were instantly seeing stars. Your entire body locked up and it felt like a cosmic explosion was going off in your soul. You could barely register the fact that you were screaming Angel's name so loud that your throat was going raw.

Angel was quickly starting to lose control of his body. His thrusting was hard, fast and precise. His stomach was clenching and as soon as your nails dug into his shoulder blade he broke. His hot seed exploded from his dick and painted your walls in thick coats of white.

He moaned out your name and continued to thrust into you slowly as he rode out his orgasm.

After what seemed like years, both of you finally came down from your high. Angel gently pulled out of you, causing his cum to leak down your inner thighs. He let out a sigh and collapsed next to you on the bed.

You were both breathing heavy and your bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat. You felt like you had just run a 5k, only this 5k left you sated and high on pleasure instead of uncomfortably sore and tired.

"Maybe I should work in front of you more....if you're going to fuck me like that every time." You breathed out

Angel chuckled and turned his head to look at you. You returned his warm gaze and reached up to stroke his face.

"I love you..." he whispered

"And I love you Angel." You replied

[imagineredwood]

14. Red lipstick and cigarettes 💋🚬(Angel)

Summary: You and Angel broke up weeks ago and haven’t had any form of contact since, but when luck has you both end up at the same bar, the flame reignites. 

Request: Aesthetics 14 with Angel, happy ending

Pairing: Angel Reyes x reader 

Warnings: Mentions of breakups, heartbreak, angst but with a happy ending 

Word count: 1.4K

A/N: Can someone tell me why this “drabble” is 1.4k when my regular stories struggle to hit that many 🥴

Angel takes another sip from his beer before putting the bottle down, his ringed hand coming up to bring the half-gone cigarette up to his lips. He takes a long drag, lungs burning as he holds it in for longer than usual, a cloud of smoke billowing around him as he lets out a slow breath. The cloud surrounds him and he can't help but see it as a demonstration of how he's felt lately.

Cloudy.

Hazy.

Out of focus.

It's been weeks since you and he had split, and despite what everyone had said, it had not gotten easier. On the contrary. It seemed like every day it got even harder to deal with. It had been mutual; both of you agreeing that Angel just wasn't around as much as you wanted him to be. The club took a lot of his time, and his side business with Los Olvidados took up even more. You missed him and while he wanted nothing more than to give you every little bit of his attention, the club had to come first. It had been heartbreaking, tears shed on both sides, but you both knew that it was for the better. Best to break things off civilly before it came to a head and lead to a blow-up.

Even still, it wasn't something that either of you wanted, more a necessary evil. You had kept your distance, neither of you contacting the other nor meeting up. You had stayed away from the clubhouse, something that had proven harder than you had anticipated. EZ and Coco had taken Angel out to a local bar, hoping to get the Mayan to relax and let go for the night. It had proven difficult, Angel simply smoking and drinking in near silence, only speaking when spoken to. When he heard your voice, he figured it was just his imagination, his brain taunting him for his decision to let you go. He scoffed, disgusted with his own mind for toying with him like that. It wasn't until he heard your voice again, closer this time as it ordered your favorite drink that he sat up straighter, head whipping around to look down the bar.

And there you were, arms resting on the shiny counter as you leaned forward, talking to the bartender.

You looked stunning.

Your skin was glowing, the warm lights in the bar casting shadows and accenting highlights. He could see the slight shimmer on your shoulder, knowing exactly which lotion you were wearing. And he could smell you then, his brain tapping into his senses. He could remember running the tip of his nose along your shoulder blade as you rubbed the lotion into your skin after a shower,  the scent of you intoxicating. You looked the same too, though the red on your lips was something a bit new. You only wore it every now and then, when the mood struck you. Angel could remember vividly the time he had left your house in a rush early in the morning, only to be teased by the guys for the lipstick behind his ear that he had missed in the shower. It was an elbow to the ribs that drew his attention away from you and back to Coco.

"Stop staring, you look creepy as fuck."

Angel scoffed, waving his hand dismissively before turning to look back at you. When he did, his heart jumped, finding your eyes on him now. They were wide, clearly not having expected to see him there. The corner of your mouth turned up slightly and he nodded once, returning his own pisspoor excuse of a smile. He looked away first, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't also to keep his composure.

The soft-touch to his back startled him and he looked behind him, ready to tell whichever woman it was that he wasn't interested. But there's your voice again.

"Hey."

He turned to look at you and unsurprisingly, you look even more beautiful than he remembers you. His voice is breathless as he responds.

"Hey, querida."

You looked to EZ and Coco then, offering them hugs before coming to stand closer to Angel again.

"Sorry, didn't want to just ignore you and not say hi."

All three nodded, Angel's eyes still glued to you as the other two shared a look. EZ was standing then, Coco following suit.

"We're gonna go get some air, we'll be back. Good seeing you."

It was tense and awkward, the two other Mayans missing you but not wanting to anger Angel by making it seem like they were trying to rope you back in. With it being only the two of you now, Angel swallowed before pointing to the seat Coco had just been in.

"You wanna sit, or..."

He could see the hesitation on your face, not knowing what was the best choice, and his mouth was moving before his brain could keep up as per usual.

"I want you to."

Your eyes were warm as they landed back on him and you nodded softly, your voice even softer as you took a seat.

"Ok."

There was an awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say. Angel spoke first, going with the option of full transparency.

"I miss you."

The sad smile that graced your lips had him wanting to wrap you up in his arms at once, but he refrained. With a nod, you agreed.

"I miss you too."

It was the tears welling in your eyes that sealed it for him as he pushed closer to you, his knees against yours as he placed his hand on your back, his own heart pained.

"Don't cry, mama."

You chuckled, though there was nothing funny, your hand coming up to dab at your eye.

"Last person I thought I would bump into tonight was you."

Angel nodded, offering a small smile.

"If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't expecting that shit either."

There was a bit of silence then, Angel biting his lip as he swallowed down the urge to just take you into his arms. With his fingers running up and down your back, he sighed, looking back over at where you had been to see your friends there, the women quickly looking away under his gaze. You chuckled again, sitting up straighter now that the overwhelming emotion had subsided.

"They brought me out to try and get over you. I can see EZ and Coco did the same."

"And how's that working out?"

Angel's question was direct and so were his eyes as they stared down at you. With a shrug, you answered.

"Obviously not great if I'm sitting here crying in a bar."

The Mayan chuckled and so did you, the chemistry between the two of you so intense it burned.

"Wanna go for a ride? I only had one beer."

You looked at Angel as he offered, the hope clear in his eyes. With a nod, you smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like forever. Holding his hand out, Angel helped you stand, tossing a bill onto the bartop.

"You wanna tell your friends? I can take you home after."

"Yeah. I'll grab my purse and meet you outside."

Angel nodded, leaning down to press a soft and slow kiss to your forehead before walking toward the exit. Coco and EZ were leaning against the wall, both wincing as they saw him walk out alone.

"She didn't wanna hear it?"

Angel was about to answer when you came out behind him, throwing a small wave at the boys who were now smiling instead. They waved back and stood back up straight.

"We'll see you tomorrow then."

Angel nodded, a little bit of light back in his eyes.

"Yeah, I'll see you."

The two of them were walking back inside then, leaving you and your ex, though it felt like things might not be staying that way. The love that the two of you had was too strong to throw away over tough times. Holding his hand out once again, Angel looked at you as he waited.

"You wanna try us out again?"

Your nod was confident as you gazed at him, a tiny sparkle back in your eyes.

"I'd rather have you only sometimes than not at all."

That was a sentiment that Angel could agree with and he grinned, his hand encasing yours as he walked with you toward his parked bike, happy to know he was going to have his girl with him once again.

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